Skip to main content

Full text of "Samuel L. Allen; intimate recollections & letters"

See other formats




<?nntell Jlntueraitg Sahrarg 

3il[aca. Hem fork 



The date shows when this volume was taken. 

To renew thi&bodk copy the call No. and give to 
the librarian. 


All -Books subject to recall 

All borrowers must regis- 

.... ter in the library to borrow 

books for home use. 

All books must be re- 
turned' at end of college 
year for inspection and 

Limited books must be 

f returned within the four 

week limit and not renewed. 

Students must return all 

books before leaving town. 

Officers should arrange for 

, the return of books wanted 

during their absence from 


Volumes of periodicals 
and of pamphlets are held 
in the library as much as 
possible. For special pur- 
poses they are given out for 
a limited time. 

Borrowers should not use 

their library privileges for 

the benefit of other persons. 

Books of special value 
and gift books, when the 

giver wishes it, are not 

allowed to circulate. 
Readers are asked tore- 
port all cases of books 
marked or mutilated. 

Do not deface books by marks and writing. 

Cornell University Library 
CT275.A42 A41 

Samue. L^MjESflUfilBi 

3 1924 029 802 398 


Cornell University 

The original of this book is in 
the Cornell University Library. 

There are no known copyright restrictions in 
the United States on the use of the text. 



Compiled by 

Privately Printed 












Precepts of Samuel L. Allen 11 


Youth and School Days 13 


The City Boy on a Farm 27 


My Mother — Early Married Life 39 


Spiritual Influences 50 

Ivystone Days'as I Knew Them 57 

Ivystone Days — Our Horses and Dogs 76 


Early Business Days— 1866-1881 90 


Letters — Civic Interests 101 


Coasting and the "Flexible Flyer" 109 



Family Letters and Letters to Sue at Westtown — 

Europe m 1892 118 


Business Recollections 129 


The New Plant 140 


Business Section Concluded — Expressions op Apprecia- 
tion of My Father's Character 155 


Fishing 175 


Golf 193 


Breidenhart 217 


Committee Work — Friends' Hospital, Haverford Col- 
lege, Westtown School, Social Order Committee . . . 232 


Educational Views 242 



Family Events 250 


Breidenhart Days — Dogs, Horses and Hobbies 261 


Miami Beach and the End 273 


Family and Travel Letters from the South 278 


California — Business Diaries and Letters 287 


Letters from the Canadian Rockies 298 


Notes from Chamounix, 1892 304 


Golfing in England 309 


Samuel L. Allen, 1841-1918 — A Tribute by J. Stogdell 

Stokes 326 



Samuel L. Allen Frontispiece 

Photogravure from Photograph by Elias Goldensky 

Ivystone in the Early Nineties 67 

Photograph by Elisha Roberts 

Breidenhart as One Drives Up Main Street . . 215 
Photograph by Elizabeth R. Allen 

Breidenhart from the Box Garden 265 

Photograph by Elizabeth R. Allen 

Samuel L. and Sarah H. Allen, 

Taken About 1915 .... 285 
Photograph by Elizabeth R. Allen 


Acquibe the Habit of 

Punctuality in everything. 




Doing things systematically. 

Finishing everything undertaken. 

Untiring industry. 

Cultivate the Habit of 

Thoroughness in every study. 
Doing everything well. 
Learning something from everyone. 
Thinking — deeply, powerfully, comprehensively. 
Reviewing — remembering that next to perseverance it is the 
great secret of success as a student. 

Cultivate the Habits of a Gentleman 
Good humor. 
The memory, by observation, reading, conversation and 

Command over my temper. 
The conscience. 

Cultivate the Habit of 
Daily prayer. 
Self-control of the tongue. 
Self-control of the feelings. 



Self-control of the thoughts. 
Self-control of the heart. 
Soundness of judgment. 
Humility and liberality of heart. 

Bewake of 


Light reading which enfeebles the mind and corrupts the heart. 

Silly speeches. 

Silly acting. 

Fault finding. 

Bad company. 

The first step in sin. 

Secret sins. 

Bad books. 

Indulging in reveries of imagination. 

Contracting the habit of procrastination. 

Levity upon sacred subjects. 

Do not refuse to walk in a difficult path of duty. 

Never neglect any opportunity of self-improvement. 

Strive to improve thoughts when alone. 

Have a plan laid beforehand for every day. 

Have regard to the position of the body. 

Be simple and neat in personal habits. 

Treat properly my parents, friends and companions. 

Seek to " know thyself." 

Form fixed principles on which to think and act. 

Faithfully review my conduct at stated intervals. 

Live to do good and make this my aim in company and con- 

Do not waste the company's time or my own by talking trifles. 

Do not endeavor to be a wit or punster. 

Do not view words in an unnatural light for the sake of smart 

Beware of severe speaking. 

Be careful in introducing topics of conversation. 

Say as little as possible about myself, friends, deeds, etc. 




MY father, Samuel Leeds Allen, was born the fifth 
of Fifth Month 1841, at 189 South Second 
Street, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He was 
the second child of John Casdorp and Rebecca Leeds 
Allen, and was named for his maternal grandfather, 
Samuel Leeds, of Leeds Point, New Jersey. 

My father was of the seventh generation from 
Nathaniel Allen, who was sent over in 1681 by William 
Penn, preceding him as one of his commissioners to 
purchase lands from the Indians, and to assist in lay- 
ing out the city of Philadelphia. 

My grandfather, John C. Allen, was one of the best- 
known down-town druggists. He graduated with hon- 
ors in the first class of the Philadelphia College of 
Pharmacy, and for many years was its oldest alumnus. 
He also was a partner in the firm of Ivins and Allen 
(now Job S. Ivins's Sons), cracker bakers, but with- 
drew at the time of the Civil War, feeling he could not 
be connected with a firm which made articles for the 
use of the army. 

He was always devoted to the memory of his mother, 
Sarah Breidenhart, daughter of Christopher Breiden- 
hart, who came over from Saxe-Gotha in 1753, settling 
in Lancaster, Pa., and is buried there in the grounds of 
Old Christ Church. Sarah Breidenhart died in 1807, 
when her son John was only eight days old. 



The family name of Breidenhart is now extinct in 
this country, as far as we know: but it is the middle 
name of my father's first cousin, George Breidenhart 
Allen, and of his namesake and grandson G. B. A., Jr., 
and of my niece, Esther Breidenhart Allen. 

My father's sister, Elizabeth L. Roberts, is the only 
one now living of their family of nine, and she writes 
of him : 

I was only eight years old when my brother went away to learn 
to farm, so my recollections are limited; but I remember my 
mother saying that his first hobby was an "unkerella" (umbrella), 
with which he used to play in my father's drug-store. 

She thought she never saw anyone with so much perseverance, 
and he never seemed to give up an idea. As an example of this 
trait, one season he made twenty kites, and was then told he 
could make only one more. 

I remember one winter he and his friends built a snow-hill in 
our back yard, icing it at night; and I had many good rides on 
the sled in front of my big brother or his friend, Thomas Scatter- 
good, who lived just around the corner. 

As a boy, he was frequently sent to his uncle Isaac 
Leeds's farm, and one of his pranks when nine years 
old was to tease the maid by climbing the old wooden 
pump and hiding the pin which held up the handle. 
Several summers he was sent to Lancaster county to 
stay at Walter Moore's. Here he became acquainted 
with Eli Moore, and they were lifelong friends, and he 
has written us the following incident: 

One First day, Uncle Isaac's boy and John Dickinson, and 
Samuel and I were coming home from meeting. There was quite 
a running brook on my father's farm which abounded with fish. 
We, boylike, were sauntering along, leaning over the bank to see 
the millets, when Samuel fell into the water, over head and ears. 



It was about three feet deep. His clean starched summer suit 
which Aunt Mary Ann had ironed so nicely, was all spoiled. 
What to do was a query. It was a hot day in Augiist, so we took 
Samuel to my father's barn, hung his clothes in the sun after 
wringing them as dry as possible, got one of my mother's flat- 
irons and smoothed them out as well as we could. No one knew 
what had happened for some time. It was a secret with us four boys. 

His sister's account continues : 

We were all very much thrilled when Samuel came home one 
evening saying that he and his friend, Horatio Wood, had saved a 
man from drowning in the Schuylkill river. The man had skated 
into an airhole, and the boys had thrown him a heavy cord, which 
Samuel had with him for such emergencies — and has always kept. 

My brother had the third-story front room for a study where he 
worked hard, and also learned to play very well on a flute which 
he much enjoyed. 

When he was eleven years old, "to get him out of 
the city" he was sent to Westtown Boarding School, 
Chester county, Pennsylvania, leaving when he was 
fourteen, having completed geometry and bookkeeping. 
While there he used to cut the boys' hair and write their 
visiting cards for pocket money, and he entered fully 
into the life of the school. 

He became an excellent penman, a favorite exercise 
being to write the Lord's Prayer in a circle made by a 

There are comparatively few left of my father's gen- 
eration who knew him as a boy, but of these our cousin 
George Breidenhart Allen remembers very vividly the 
activity and high spirits of the lad, and gives the fol- 
lowing delightful memories : 

If anything went wrong, Samuel would pitch right in and help, 
and things that would have made another boy cross or bad- 



humored he felt, but neither showed it nor lost his temper. He 
combined the quickness of his father with the calm even tempera- 
ment of his mother, and while fond of fun and innocent mischief, 
he never got into any real scrapes, and in play he never resented 
anything in an ungentlemanly manner. 

At the time we were young, teachers did not understand and 
train boys in the careful and scientific way it is done today, — and 
this has always impressed me when I think of Cousin Samuel's 
school days. He would be so interested in inventing some jim- 
crack or other he would forget all about studying his lessons. 
Then the teachers would scold him, and when this had happened 
once or twice in succession he came to me saying, "I believe I 
can't study lessons like other boys, and the teacher says I'm lazy." 
"No, thee isn't lazy," I told him. "If thee would just stop 
inventing all those queer things that run across the desk, thee 
could study as well as anyone else. It is not that thee can't, 
but thee don't." 

In the Westtown Collecting Room, Samuel sat next to the aisle 
in the second row on the south side, and up this aisle the teachers 
walked. He had fixed a little spring gun low down on the side of 
his seat, and any one passing, even teachers, would set it off, and 
the load ricocheted around the room. The teacher would give him 
his seat for it, but he could not resist doing it again. 

Samuel was so interested in inventing, and doing everything 
from a scientific standpoint, that his nickname was "Skiance." 
(There is a family tradition that he was called this because he was 
tall and erect, and held his head so high, skyward.) 

We did not play football in those days as they do today, and 
Samuel was champion of the school in "mounting the ball." If 
he were there he was always the first chosen on a side, for he could 
kick either higher or further than any one else because he had the 
knack, and kicked it scientifically. There were probably seventy- 
five boys there, both larger and stronger than he, including my- 
self, and he excelled us all in "mounting." He was not so good in 
the rest of the game; but, although I was a year older, he could 
kick it twice as far as I, because he had this "knack." 

I used to go into the city frequently to see him, and one day he 



took me round to call on the Scattergood boys whom I had never 
met. They were at the window, and seeing us coming, rushed to 
the door and down the steps with flying fists. Samuel was used to 
it, and ready for Joseph who went for him, while I hardly knew 
what to make of it at first; however, I was soon holding my own 
with Thomas,— but I never forgot my introduction to the Scatter- 
good boys.* 

The summer he was fourteen he came out to our farm at Marple, 
Pennsylvania, his father saying he wanted him "to learn to work, 
and to earn his board." The next morning we went to the hay- 
field, and I was on the load. Samuel watched very carefully, and 
after the first load went in, he wished to try loading the second. 
A colored man who had been with us several years was very nice 
and kind in giving him a chance, telling him how to load the wagon, 
and instructing the other man to help, by handing up the hay 
properly. I thought he could not do it so the load would not slip, 
but it went to the barn all right. After that, Samuel loaded 
every load of hay and wheat that we hauled that summer, which 
was at the least fifty loads, and not one slipped. 

I always felt that his success on the farm that summer was the 
greatest help to him in after years. He was impressed with the 
fact that he must work, and he found he could do some things as 
well as others did. This gave Samuel the positive idea that if he 
put his mind on the subject he could do as well as anyone. 

He was a little discouraged with his last year at Westtown, but 
with the rest and success of the summer he went right up through 
Select School, and ahead of almost anyone there. His father, my 
uncle, John C. Allen, had some pretty good ideas how to give a 
boy a start, and it has always been in my mind that Samuel's 
success in this heavy work gave him the impetus that carried him 
right along through life. 

This reminds me that Uncle John was rather skeptical of inno- 
vations, and the horsecars in Philadelphia, and later, the cable 
cars, were an unending subject of good-natured criticism and 
ridicule. One day there had been a tiresome block of the cars, 

*Notb. While my father never said much about it, he told me "he knew how 
to take care of himself, having been well taught by a next-door neighbor." 



and Uncle John was fulminating about the delay, and told the con- 
ductor what he thought about it. He repeated the conversation 
at home, and I was never more amused than when little John C, 
Jr., eight years younger than we were, looked up and said, "Well, 
father, what did the conductor say? Did he ask if thee was any- 
one in particular?" 

Two characteristic letters from schoolmates follow, 
that of Thomas Scattergood being written from 


* * * I think hornets are most unusually plenty this year. 
Last Wednesday evening a lot of boys headed by Messrs. Alsop 
and Potts, scoured the land and destroyed no less than six hornets' 
nests and two yellow-jackets' in the space of about forty minutes; 
that was doing what I call a small business on a large scale. Yes- 
terday we found another along the race bank, and nearly demol- 
ished it. One "bird with sharp toe nails," as the Irishman calls 
the hornet, bit me just under the right eye. I applied the universal 
remedy for such things, "mud," and it did not swell nor pain me 

much * * * 

Thos. Scattergood, Jr. W. B. S. 

Horatio Wood, who later became the famous doctor, 
was visiting his uncle, John E. Sheppard, near Green- 
wich, New Jersey, when he sent the following letter to 
my father, and his son wrote me that the story of 
"the calves' tails" has always been a favorite in 
their family. 

Dear Sam: — 

Thy acceptable letter was duly received as are most committed 
to the care of Uncle Sam. Thee does not quite hit the nail on the 
head in thy suppositions concerning my unwonted silence. The 
truth is, I did not know where to write, thee having left me com- 
pletely in the dark on that score. It was in the bargain that thee 
was to fire the first gun. 



The configuration of this section of country is greatly modified 
and abominalized by the salt marshes, or "ma'shes," as they are 
often called. The larger creeks, as the Cohansey, are surrounded 
by belts of lowlands, which the high tides overflow, keeping many 
of them in the constant consistency of paste. 

Upon these tracts grows a sort of grass or trash, much of it fit 
only for manure. But they turn cattle on them to pick their living; 
thee may judge of their value from the price of board for cattle. 
The charge for the season is $1.50 per head. In the distance, the 
beautiful green of these marshes and the band of nodding reeds 
which skirts their borders, give them a very fine appearance. 

But it is emphatically distance that lends enchantment to the 
view. They breed and swarm with millions of mosquitoes, gnats, 
gadflies, "triangular flies," greenheads and the whole brood of 
pestilent insects, which hive forth to the plague of the surround- 
ing country. 

I have met with the greenheads before, but they always confined 
their depredation to cattle; here they attack men and beasts in- 
discriminately. Many an hour have I spent since coming here in 
the heart of the mosquito country, always above my ankles, and 
sometimes over my boot-tops in mud. 

My last trip was the most vexatious. We went to bring four 
wild calves ashore. On our arrival (at the creek) we found the 
bridge partly carried away by the tide. So we had to bring rails 
from a fence to mend it with. That part of the marsh was very 
soft, so that each step would take us in nearly to our boot-tops, 
and the mud so adherent that we could hardly pull them out, and 
it took good management not to leave our boots behind us. Now 
put a couple of heavy rails across thy shoulder, in such a place, 
requiring both hands to sustain them, and swarms of gnats and 
mosquitoes settling on and probing thy face. If thee can imagine 
such a state, then thee'll have the faithful picture of our condition. 

But that was not the worst, for we found the only way to get 
them ashore was to run them down. For a couple of hours we were 
coursing over that expanse of liquid earth, now rushing through 
the waist-high wet salt grass, now falling over an unseen ditch, 
till we were in a woful plight both as regards muscle and clothes. 



Once I seized one of the animals by the tail, and mirabUe visu! 
what leaps I performed over that marsh, till Uncle John hollowed 
that I'd break his tail; if he had not spoken, I would have held 
as tightly as did the witch to Tarn o' Shanter's mare Meg. I 
would have loosened the tail or subdued the beast. 

Another time, I seized one emerging from Stoe creek, in which 
he had taken refuge from us, and I tell thee we had a roll and tussle 
in the ditch. But I held him! At last we finally got them all 
ashore, save one, which swam Stoe creek and is — ? Wherever he 
may be, I devoutly hope the flies, etc., may leave but little of him 
but skin and bones. 

We have about 100 acres of Upland and marsh to mow. When 
we get through I hope to get the job of hauling marl from a ter- 
tiary bed near here. If I do, thee may imagine it will tickle me 
a mickle. Do you haul the green or cretaceous marl? If so, please 
remember me and save the shells. 

I am becoming more confirmed in my skepticism of the proba- 
bility of ever being satisfied as a farmer. I do not know what I 
shall go at. I am, as I told thee last winter, tossed on the dark 
ocean of uncertainty and doubt, but I think I will come out all 
right by and by. The bark that weathers a storm shows her sea- 

Please excuse mistakes on the plea of laziness and it is so dark 
here, I am scarcely able to follow the fines. 

Veryresp. H . C. Wood, Jk. 

From Westtown my father went to Friends' Select 
School, Philadelphia, and a short "Address to the Old 
Scholars and Promoters of the School," read Fifth 
Month 21st, 1914, is appropriate here: 

An interesting audience. I greet you. 

Fifty-five years ago, a few weeks later in the season than this, 
I graduated from Friends' Select School for Boys, in the first class 
that ever received diplomas there. The number of scholars at 
that time was about seventy, with three teachers. I first entered 
in 1849; in '52 went to Westtown, returned in the latter part of 



'55 and graduated in the spring of- '59. Our Senior Class con- 
sisted of four members. They were Professor Edward D. Cope, 
who became an eminent scientist and naturalist; Doctor Horatio 
C. Wood, who is a noted physician and author; Thomas Scatter- 
good, who was a successful captain of industry, and myself. 

Thomas Scattergood left school, I think, in '58, and Professor 
Edward D. Cope not long before commencement day, so Doctor 
Horatio C. Wood and myself studied calculus and worked out our 
eclipse of the sun, alone; and as the only graduates, received our 
diplomas and the admirable advice of our excellent principal, 
Joseph W. Aldrich. I am glad to be credibly informed that you 
have larger graduating classes now. 

In the '50s the school building was situated on the south side 
of Cherry street between Eighth and Ninth, set back from the 
street perhaps one hundred feet, leaving room for a playground 
and grass plot. It was a bad neighborhood, and as we small boys 
were compelled to wear high silk hats, we had many a scrap with 
the street urchins living near. We protected ourselves by putting 
sharp tacks through the tops of said hats, so that when the boys 
smashed them over our eyes they would receive condign punish- 
ment. After we were allowed to give these hats up, it still re- 
mained a case of fighting our way to Eighth street sometimes — 
though I think none of us carried away any life-long scars. 

One of our favorite amusements in school was the Spelling Bee. 
I suppose, much as nowadays, a couple of older pupils, good spell- 
ers, were selected captains to choose boys alternately for sides. 
Then a teacher spoke hard words to us. Whenever one was missed, 
the captain of the opposing side had the right to call over to his 
ranks any person he might choose from his opponents, its captain 
excepted, until one side was exhausted. 

After leaving school, the Spelling Bee idea was kept up at social 
gatherings by the dictation of sentences; these were thought to 
be well taken care of, when the writer made no more than one 
mistake in transcribing. One sentence I remember ran some- 
thing like this : 

It is difficult to conceive the unparalleled embarrassment of a cynical Sicilian 
Sibyl scrutinizing an ecstatic pony eating peeled potatoes out of a peddler's wagon. 



This might do for a little try-out for the last two or three gradu- 
ating classes here, though the modern go-as-you-please disciples of 
English orthography might object to the waste of time and good 
English letters. 

A more serious employment was our work with the reflecting 
telescope, and especially the transit instrument belonging to the 
school. The latter was mounted on the third floor, and had its 
foundation carried up from the ground, separate from the walls of 
the building, to avoid tremors from the heavy omnibuses which 
in that day traveled along Arch street "infrequently." With this 
transit instrument we assisted our principal once a week in finding 
the correct time of day for the City Fathers by which to regulate 
the great clock in Independence Hall tower, the universal guide 
for the public of that day. 

I see but few of my schoolmates here, of either the forties, fif- 
ties, or sixties. You who may have many classmates in this large 
audience, and especially the younger ones, will doubtless appre- 
ciate a quotation from the great metaphysician, Alexander Ham- 
ilton. It is this : " The Past does not interest ; the Present does not 
satisfy; the Future alone is the object which engages us." A little 
thinking will show the truth of this, for most of us. 

In pursuing each our future, we may gain strength and take 
courage from Goethe, an adaptation of whose lines reads thus : 

Lose this day loitering, 'twill be the same story 
Tomorrow, and the next, more dilatory: 
The indecision brings its own delays, 
And days are lost, lamenting o'er lost days. 
Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute: 
What you can do, or think you can, begin it: 
Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it! 
Only engage, and then the mind grows heated: 
Begin it, and the work will be completed. 

And that is the way with my five minutes. 

Perhaps the children will be interested in this extract 
from a composition written on telescopes, his last 
winter at school, 12-15-'59. 

* * * We have at the present time telescopes of almost 
every size, from Lord Ross's giant instrument, thru which a man 



might walk erect with an open umbrella over his head, and which 
magnifies several thousand times, to the small pocket spy-glass of 
the power of only two or three. From the latter power up to about 
fifty diameters, I have made several. 

One of my first attempts was to use an old spectacle glass for 
an object glass, and three other lenses of a pocket microscope for 
the eye-pieces; these were then contained in a few sheets of paper 
rolled together. With this I took my station at a window one clear 
evening about ten o'clock, and made my first observation on a 
planet, which happened to be about south of us at that time. 
After looking at it for a few minutes I discovered three moons, 
and thought I could see the fourth, Jupiter having that many; 
but I was surprised that they were not more nearly in a line, as I 
knew they should be. But still I watched them for two or three 
nights, well satisfied at having so readily made a telescope with 
which I could see the moons of Jupiter. 

But my satisfaction was entirely taken away a short time 
afterward when upon looking in the almanac I found, instead of 
Jupiter being south about ten, it really did not rise until two or 
three o'clock in the morning; and in addition I learned that the 
planet was Mars, around which I had discovered the satellites, 
previously unknown to astronomers. 

However, before lie was twenty, lie made a telescope 
with which the rings of Saturn, and moons of Jupiter, 
were easily seen, and eclipses of sun or moon observed; 
while on our farm the columns of Girard College and 
spires and buildings in the city were frequently "brought 
to our door" on First day afternoons by this home- 
made telescope. 

The following anecdote, written down as he related 
it, shows my father's ability to apply what he had 
studied : 

I once went sailing at Leeds Point, N. J., in Smith's Landing 
Bay, and was sent out with a greenhorn. When some miles from 
shore the wind came up, and blew us down pretty nearly flat, so 



that the end of the boom was in the water and my hat was knocked 
off. It was a new one, and I did not want to lose it, and insisted 
the man should get it. He objected, but finally maneuvered until 
we secured it. Then the man lost his nerve, and said he could do 
nothing more, so I had to take hold. It was the first time I had ever 
been in a sailboat, and all I knew of sailing I had learned from 
"Olmstead's Philosophy," but I did the best I could and brought 
the boat to land about four miles distant. We could not see the 
landing place from the boat, but while the man was frightened and 
down in the bottom he still knew enough to tell me several helpful 
things, and where to go to reach the dock. Those on shore said 
they never expected to see us come in. 

Probably he was in the country when his mother 
wrote him: 

We hope thee will continue to find a little time for reading, 
without interfering with other duties. If thee follows the plan in 
the "Student's Manual" and takes good care of the minutes, thee 

will no doubt be surprised at the amount thee can accomplish. 

* * * 

Dr. Thomas was a fine teacher, and besides the Greek 
and Latin of the course my father studied German and 
French under him after graduating. He always appre- 
ciated Dr. Thomas's thorough instruction, and all his 
life found great pleasure and satisfaction in his knowl- 
edge of these languages. He refreshed his memory by 
joining a German class with me at home, and in Europe 
much enjoyed his ability to make himself understood 
in greater or less degree. He was much amused at a 
guide in Cologne who asked in German to show us the 
Cathedral. We had just arrived and had slipped out 
in the dusk to glimpse the marvelous skyline before 
table d'hote, so father answered in German with care- 
ful precision, "We have not time enough." To our 



astonishment the instant reply was, "Oh, it will only 
take fifteen minutes!" What a commentary on Ameri- 
can travelers. 

He often recalled this incident in connection with 
our visit to Wells Cathedral in England. He suddenly 
found that the train waited a short time there, and by 
taking carriages we could drive to the Cathedral and 
back and have seven minutes for the interior. We 
thought this much better than nothing, and went, 
watch in hand, so that "cathedral speed" is a family 
byword. It is well to add that we were so charmed 
by the beauty of this ancient masterpiece that we spent 
the next day there, while in 1909 we stayed the night, 
lunching most delightfully with Mr. and Mrs. Harry 
Wolcott Thompson near Sidcot School. 

My father always advocated thorough training and 
practice in English with sufficient study of Latin to 
make clear the derivation and meaning of words, and 
he always regretted when conversation showed lack of 
educational advantages. He was naturally an excellent 
speller and accurate to a degree in pronunciation; com- 
paratively soon wearing out a large Worcester's diction- 
ary he took with him to the farm. If there were the 
slightest doubt of the use, meaning, spelling or pronun- 
ciation of a word it was never allowed to pass unchal- 
lenged, and it was never too much trouble to look up 
a word hours later if not possible at the moment. The 
best and latest dictionaries were always within reach, 
so it is no wonder his English was clear and convincing 
and that from his early letters and the glowing papers 
of young manhood to the finished productions of later 
life his style was easy and graceful yet strong and concise. 



Forceful in argument, careful in the choice of words, 
untiring in compiling facts and statistics, he was an 
opponent to be reckoned with. Many a time he has 
come home and said, "Well, I talked them to a stand- 
still; they could not answer me; they had nothing to 
say." Once in the West he had to meet five lawyers 
on the other side, and unaided he argued and won his 
case. He used one unusual word that greatly impressed 
Eh Moore, who afterward said, "What was that word 
thee used, Sammie? That was too much for me." 
Father often told us this with reminiscent appreciation, 
but in late years he forgot the word and so, alas, have I. 




MY father was quiet and retiring in his disposition, 
and felt as he neared manhood it would be im- 
possible for him to get along in the city, life in 
the country being the only thing for which his talents 
were suited. Consequently, he spent a year or two with 
his uncle Benjamin Leeds to learn farming, and in 1861 
began there for himself, as his father owned that farm, 
which was near Westfield, New Jersey, about halfway 
between Moorestown and Riverton. He sold his skates 
immediately, for he was determined to work hard, as he 
thought "a farmer had no time for recreation." This 
must have been a great sacrifice, as he was one of the 
best skaters on the Schuylkill river that winter. Later 
he found that farmers did have a little spare time, so he 
designed a pair that the village blacksmith made. He 
was an accomplished skater, and mother always con- 
sidered him "the best of teachers." 

Thomas K. Brown, a former Westtown teacher and 
friend of our family for many years, says of my father: 

I met Samuel L. Allen for the first time on the old Westtown 
skating pond about 1865, when I was sixteen years old, and I 
remember him as one of the best skaters whom I had seen up to 
that time. He was tall and easy and graceful, and I was anxious 
to learn from him. In those days it was the common ambition of 
boys of some skill with skates to be able to " cut their name on the 
ice," and I asked him how my letters could be made. He gave me 



some useful suggestions, but conveyed also the impression that 
cutting letters was no part of good skating. Later I found this to 
be the general opinion among fancy skaters, and I have never seen 
the subject mentioned in skating manuals. 

I think I remember that he had made his own skates, and he 
explained how the foot plate rose up in front to support the sole 
for its whole length. They were what were known as steel skates, 
with a button in the heel and usually a series of four straps which 
buckled across the forefoot. He had put rings on the ends of 
these small straps, and had woven one long thong back and forth 
through the rings to secure a more uniform pressure on the foot, 
binding the skate firmly without too tight a squeeze. 

Cousin George Breidenhart Allen continues his 
reminiscences : 

While with his uncle Benjamin Leeds, among other duties 
Samuel hauled produce six nights a week to Philadelphia, so his 
family feared he would have no time to learn farming, his real 
object. When about fourteen he had invented and made with his 
own hands an attachment for an alarm clock with a weight on it. 
Probably this was the one set to wake him at midnight for the 
Philadelphia trips, and one night he threw the pillow at it, he 
hated it so. Those who knew Samuel can well understand his 
amused laughter in telling this. 

The first horse he owned was wall-eyed, and one First day 
afternoon we went out to make calls. Samuel had borrowed an 
old sleigh of Uncle Benjamin's that was so old the basket was very 
loose. It did very well if we sat carefully and went straight, but 
on turning into a lane with a little flourish the basket came off and 
rolled us into the deep snow. 

I was on top and could jump up first and catch the reins before 
the horse ran away, and Samuel was quite concerned that no snow 
should be left to show our mishap. However, I did not tell him 
that a cake of snow was firmly resting on his hat; so that the first 
greeting on our arrival was, "Hey! you have had an upset!" 

He had next a pair of fine strawberry roans, "Dolly" and 
"Henry," bought from his uncle Charles Leeds, the latter taking 



the excellent wall-eyed horse in trade. They were well matched 
and beautifully trained; would walk right through a gate he had 
opened, and stop and wait for him without a word till he had 
closed it, and picked up the reins. 

My mother adds: 

He used to drive Henry to the Philadelphia market, far up 
town for those days, and from this distant point he would give 
Henry his head, and he would go directly down to Father Allen's 
door, 335 South Fifth street, making all the turns without a 

My father often related that when he went to buy 
this team, Uncle Charles asked how old they were. 
Looking in Dolly's mouth, he replied, "Coming six," 
but to his great astonishment he found Henry was a 
year older, and he supposed, of course, they were the 
same age. Uncle Charles was much surprised that a 
city man should have acquired such skill from careful 
reading only. My father loved to tell this experience, 
and also how he tied a horse to a six-inch strap nailed 
to a brick wall, which was the only hitching post at 
his father's in Philadelphia. He keenly enjoyed his 
ability to make this and other knots, and often showed 
me when a child how he did it. He considered this 
sheet bend, or weaver's knot, one of the most useful, 
as thick and thin, hard and soft, long and short, strings, 
straps or ropes can be made to hold together without 
slipping. He also taught mother this weaver's knot for 
her knitting, while he excelled in tying packages of 
irregular shape. 

He took great pleasure in training Dolly for the sad- 
dle, riding as much as fifteen hundred miles in a season. 
Dolly had a "hard mouth" and a strong will, and 



"Lippincott's hill" on the Moorestown road was the 
scene of a long struggle. Dolly would not yield to the 
curb, so one evening horse and rider fought it out until 
midnight. The curb chain broke, and my father 
spliced it with his key ring; this broke, and he had to 
return in the morning to find the keys; but at last 
Dolly acknowledged him master, and as long as she 
lived, past twenty-eight years, the least touch on the 
curb, and frequently on the snaffle alone, brought 
instant response in arching neck and easy relaxed 

Of course, she was bridle-wise, and a delightful 
though very fiery companion, but as she grew quieter 
with age many a splendid ride I had on her. But her 
spirits were all fun, for when the side-saddle turned 
with me once she stopped as I slid off, and stood by 
the fence for me to mount, though nearly home. How 
hard it was for her to resist a last wild gallop down the 
lane and round to the carriage house, as fast as either 
horse or rider could make the turns! 

My father always brought to bear an intense enthu- 
siasm on any subject, and James Hunt, Sr., of England, 
speaking of him says: 

When my hair was black and my whiskers gray, I was living 
for a year (1864-5) with the late Jonathan G. Williams's family 
on his Chester avenue farm, Moorestown, to gain an insight into 
New Jersey farming, through the introduction of my distant 
cousin, Richard Esterbrook. Amongst Jonathan G.'s farming 
friends that I used to be glad to see drop in of an evening for a 
yarn was Samuel L. Allen, who was a bright young farmer, par- 
ticularly keen just then on growing cabbage just a little better 
than his neighbors, and every detail of cultivation used to be dis- 
cussed over and over and over again. Samuel was always very 



kind to me, and one morning when everything was literally 
wrapped up in an extra heavy snow, he appeared at our door with 
a good span of horses, sleigh and rugs. "James," he said, "I want 
to show thee our country under snow. Come along and we will 
have a good time " ; and Samuel made his words good, and I never 
forgot that ride nor the kind motive that prompted him. 

Each generation has its reading circles, literary socie- 
ties and study clubs, and my father immediately became 
identified with those of Westfield and Moorestown. 
This intellectual stimulus gave him keen delight, and 
he was always active in anything promoting the interest 
of the meetings. With his pair of fine roans and three- 
seated market wagon, he was untiring in gathering the 
members and driving from Westfield to Moorestown 
and back again week after week. "The Westfield 
Reading Circle" was unusual in having many gifted 
members both young and middle-aged, all working to- 
gether in harmony and high spirits. Great-aunt Esther 
Roberts in descriptive rhymes of the members refers to 
my father as 

* * * Demosthenes, to whom are due 
The thanks of all — yes, and he has them, too, 
For his untiring energy and zeal 
In all that constitutes "The Circle's" weal. 
That we have such as he, we well may boast, 
Like Dr. Johnson, "In himself a host." 

Charles Parry was a near neighbor those days, and 
has written me: 

There was a literary society at Moorestown called The Irving. 
To this society thy father, Samuel Satterthwaite and myself be- 
longed, as well as William R. Lippincott, of Moorestown bank, 
E. W. Perkins, wholesale grocer, and very many other young men 
of the vicinity. Each winter the society gave a public entertain- 
ment in the town hall of Moorestown, which was largely attended. 



This consisted of orations, essays, dialogues, debates and other 

I remember particularly there was one debate on the question, 
"Which is the greater affliction, to be deaf or to be blind?" Thy 
father took the side that deafness was the greater affliction, while 
I took the side that blindness was the greater. I still remember 
vividly the skill, the ability and eloquence with which he defended 
the side which I considered the weaker. 

The following extract from an address to the Society 
in 1863 shows clearly the objection my father even then 
had to unnecessary and time-wasting argument. He 
told me as a child never to argue about religion, saying, 
"Those who do so, usually are trying to convince them- 
selves, and it may prove very dangerous." How true! 

* * * But perhaps the main benefit received by most of us 
arises from our weekly debates; for, including as they do all 
varieties of questions with the exception of such as relate to religion 
or the politics of the country, they freshen our acquaintance with 
ancient and modern history, test our knowledge of manufactures 
and the arts, and our own experience in all the common relations 
of life; they also give us greater command of language, accustom- 
ing us to express our thoughts explicitly and at will. 

But this is not all, for better than all they train our judgment, 
and expand our reasoning faculties; they aid us in distinguishing 
true from false argument, and thus enable us to shun many of the 
snares set to catch the thoughtless and unwary. 

They teach us to argue, not, however, that we wish to become 
a set of wranglers, but exactly the reverse, for it is evident that in 
proportion as we become able to distinguish sound from false logic 
and point out the difference to others, so will our disputes become 
less frequent and less lengthy. * * * 

Here is another page for the children (1-1 -'62): 

Why is it warmer in summer than in winter? Because the 
earth revolves around the sun, with its axis inclined to that of its 



orbit. We are nearer the sun in winter than in summer; but 
owing to the inclination of the axis, it happens that when the 
earth is nearest the sun, the north pole leans directly from it. 
This gives us our shortest days, and causes the solar rays to strike 
most obliquely on the Northern hemisphere. Thus we have the 
two conditions most favorable to a minimum heat ; for this reason 
we therefore experience the coldness of our winters. When the 
earth is at the opposite point in its orbit, the contrary conditions 
exist, causing the warmer temperature of summer. 

The following lines were penciled on a scrap of paper : 

Hear the clock in yonder corner 
With its loud and measured ticking, 
Ticking slowly, ticking ever. 
Listen to it, telling to us 
Every moment as it passeth. 
Down the weights are slowly falling, 
Onward both the hands are moving, 
Pointing out the hours and minutes 
On the face of the eight-day clock, 
The eight-day clock in the corner. 
O'er the top the moon is gliding, 
Gliding o'er the curving dial, 
Till one eye it hides in darkness, 
Shining faintly with the other. 
Hear it ticking onward, onward, 
Never ceasing, never pausing, 
Onward it in silence ticketh. 
First it marks the passing seconds, 
Next the minutes it recordeth, 
Then the hours it slowly striketh 
On the bell behind the dial. 
Thus it ever ticketh onward, 
Day and night it surely marketh 
Till the day of final judgment. 

Doubtless few will care to read this next address, 
read at the annual meeting in 1864, but to me it is ever 
fascinating, with its lofty idealism and the sentiments 
that ring as true today as fifty-six years ago. My 
father was president, and it is easy to picture him at his 



best with my mother in the audience, and to imagine 
her pride and happiness as she listened to so gallant a 

Another year has rolled away on its course, laden with its 
burden of joys and sorrows, its successes and disappointments to 
each. Fellow members of the Irving Literary Union, I congratu- 
late you upon having successfully supported this society in the 
midst of great and numerous difficulties. Many of your members 
have left the ranks, to pursue fortune in other parts of the world; 
several have been engaged in the service of their country, and two 
of your members have lost their lives while in the army. But, 
notwithstanding the absence of many of your members, and having 
to contend with other great disadvantages, you have shown that the 
society can be sustained by energy and perseverance. The vacant 
places have been rapidly filled by new and active members, to 
whom you have held forth the right hand of fellowship; and by 
regular attendance, unity of action and determination to succeed, 
you have been able to present yourselves, as a literary society, 
once more before the public. 

Many of us are just upon the threshold of life, yet already 
does time seem to have mowed down many of our dearest plans 
ere it were yet possible to bring them to perfection. 

Youth is the time for anticipations. It is to this class that the 
remark of a great philosopher particularly applies: "It is ever the 
contest that pleases us, and not the victory. Thus it is in play, 
thus it is in hunting, thus it is in the search for truth, thus it is in 
life. The past does not interest, the present does not satisfy, the 
future alone is the object which engages us." 

Hope takes us by the hand, and ever pointing into the future, 
shows us the haven of our desires, though receding from us yet 
shortly to be entered in safety. It is characteristic of the human 
mind never to be satisfied with its position. All of us have our 
air castles; built of the frailest materials, they notwithstanding 
quickly increase their proportions to gigantic dimensions, until, 
overpowered by increasing weight, the insufficient foundations 
crumble to the earth and the whole structure falls at the feet of 



the architect. But slight is the injury sustained; the materials, 
light as the winds that sway them, fall, to be erected in more 
glorious proportions, where fancy piled upon fancy mountain 
high, and shining beautiful in the gleam from the lamp of the 
goddess Hope, presents to its builder a picture of beauty and 
enchantment: but such an ideal as his life shall never see realized. 

Youth is full of hope and enterprise: ever anticipating new 
happiness, each year finds him still determined to reach after and 
appreciate greater blessings. Not yet sobered down by disappoint- 
ments which the stern realities of life shall shower upon his head, 
not yet understanding the impossibility of his desires ever being 
accomplished, not yet possessed of the experience of age, nor the 
judgment of mature understanding, nor able to comprehend the 
indifference of older minds to his plans, he pushes on in his own 
course, and though beaten back upon every side, advances slowly 
by perseverance and determination. 

It is the privilege of youth not to understand the difficulties 
held up to his gaze by those who have already battled in the path 
he proposes to pursue, and he presses forward ever intent on suc- 
cess, and determined to try for himself the efficiency of his will in 
overturning all existing obstacles. And a wise provision of Provi- 
dence it is. What would become of the world if not for the im- 
petus given to every branch of industry, and the arts, as each gen- 
eration of youth throws its untried energies into the field? The 
improvement would be small indeed, were the discouraged and 
defeated energies of middle age left to battle alone with the fresh 
difficulties arising at every step of the world's progress. 

To the vigorous arm of youth must we ever look for the power 
that must renew the contest and widen the breach in the strong- 
holds of ignorance, and open to us the avenues of success in every 
department of human enterprise. And especially is this the case 
in America, where the customs and regulations are such as to give 
the greatest possible impetus to the efforts of every determined 
pursuer of knowledge or renown. Here no government nor laws 
command us what to do or what to leave undone, or appoint the 
station in life that we must occupy. Here by no regulations of 
primogeniture is the eldest son allowed all the property of his 



forefathers, and the rest of the family left penniless, destroying 
the usefulness of one by granting him that ease so destructive of 
bodily or mental activity, and crushing out every vestige of enter- 
prise from the minds of the others. 

But here, on the contrary, the division of property is such as to 
afford everyone an opportunity of securing comfort and happiness 
by his own exertions; and the result is, though we have none of 
the stately palaces and grand estates common to Europe, yet we 
find in an unprecedentedly short time the vast continent of North 
America, settled through almost its entire breadth by a people 
well satisfied with being able surely to win fortune and purchase 
happiness by giving their own labor and perseverance in exchange. 

Our mechanical skill furnishes machinery for the use of the Old 
World, and American ingenuity and enterprise are forcing admi- 
ration in all quarters of the globe. What though we send cotton 
to Europe to be manufactured, and buy cutlery, clothes and many 
other articles cheaper than we can produce them? This only 
proves that labor is cheaper there than here, a most natural and 
inevitable result. There the country is densely settled, and it is 
necessary for the inhabitants to turn their attention to manu- 
factures that they may live. 

Here, on the other hand, the opportunities for advancement are 
so great that a man of ordinary capacity soon becomes independent 
of his employers and capable of taking care of himself. Thus the 
proportional numbers of the laboring classes are reduced to such 
an extent, that we are unable to compete with other nations in the 
production of such articles as require a superabundance of manual 
labor. But this need not be a source of regret, for these men rising 
out of the laboring classes are the very ones whose energy will 
soon raise America to the highest position among nations, and to 
a position of peculiar independence, inasmuch as our advantages 
of soil, climate and mineralogical wealth are such as are unexcelled 
in any part of the world. And if it be to the youth that the nation 
must look as its champions in all battles with the world, as well as 
in commerce, in the manufactures and arts, in industry, in inge- 
nuity — as in war — most important is it that their minds shall come 



on to the stage in such a state of development as shall enable them 
to perform the varied duties of life in the most desirable manner. 

And here let it be understood that by the youth of the nation 
is meant those of both sexes, for though woman does not take so 
active a part in what is generally understood as the business of 
life, yet she holds fully as important a position in the economy of 
society as her bolder companion, and a destiny which it is utterly 
impossible to separate from his. 

To accomplish this grand and worthy object, the thorough train- 
ing of the intellect, it is necessary that education should be pur- 
sued to a fuller extent. Long since has the idea been exploded 
that the knowledge of "the three R's — reading, 'riting and 'rith- 
metic," was sufficient education for a child; but it is still too 
often the case that children are taken away from school before they 
have grasped more than the rudiments of knowledge. Just when 
the mind of the pupil begins to expand, and his intellect becomes 
capable of understanding the subject of his studies, and appreci- 
ating the importance of a good education, is the time when he ought 
to be allowed to pursue it, and when his newly-awakened interest 
and increased capacity will produce the most desirable results. 

But the parents and friends of the child too often consider that 
it is best that he should be taking a more active part in the common 
duties of life, or gaining a knowledge of business, such as shall 
sooner fit him for self-maintenance, and open to him a prospect of 
future success in the pursuit of wealth. But upon reflection we 
cannot but perceive the error of such a course. How often do we 
hear intelligent persons regretting when too late the loss of the 
golden opportunity for improvement! This desire to gain an early 
start in business is a characteristic peculiarly American, and is no 
doubt the cause of many of the failures so common in mercantile 

The European countries set us an entirely different example: 
there in some parts the age of majority is fixed at twenty-five 
instead of twenty-one, and it is no doubt productive of positive 
advantage. For what must be the result of lengthening the period 
for acquiring knowledge? The young men will enter study with 
a capacity and zeal such as will enable them soon to master any 



branch of knowledge. They will enter life as business men with 
a discipline of mind and maturity of thought such as will give 
them great advantages in whatever avocations they may follow. 

But, though the possession of money is a desirable object, inas- 
much as it is the medium through which we obtain the comforts 
and necessities of life, yet no one ought to consider it the object 
of paramount importance. And, although we cannot avoid sup- 
posing the educated man at fifty years of age as more certain to 
be the possessor of a competency than his companion who started 
business several years younger, yet the former has advantages of 
greater importance. 

Education secures against the narrowness of mind so detrimental 
to improvement, elevates above the low and sordid motive, adds 
enjoyment and happiness to health, administers comfort to dis- 
ease, and bears the mind safely above the vast sea of superstitious 
fears and unsound arguments so well calculated to mislead and 
render us unhappy. 

In a social point of view the advantages are so evident in elevat- 
ing the tastes, refining the feelings and polishing the expression of 
mankind as to need no comment. And in conclusion I cannot but 
recall an example to which the attention of our class was directed 
by our instructor. It is the language of a poor but highly intelli- 
gent man in New England, who had a large family, and was obliged 
to exert himself energetically for its support. 

" I am determined," said he, " as far as lies in my power, to give 
all my children a good education. I shall have little besides to 
leave them, but if I secure this object in addition to a good moral 
and religious training, I may well leave the rest to them. I shall 
contentedly labor on as I now do, and shall lay my head upon the 
pillow of death, in the consciousness of having properly performed 
a great duty to them and to the community." 

This was the opinion of a liberal-minded man. He was aware 
not only that a good education was one of the best inheritances he 
could leave his children; but also in giving them this mental and 
moral training he was best performing his duty to the community, 
inasmuch as he left his children worthy of the love, honor and re- 
spect of the human race. 



IT is something to remember with gratitude rather 
than pride if one be descended from sturdy, honest 
stock; and the fact should be ever a spur to fresh 
endeavor and achievement, that there be no dimness 
on the family shield. 

My mother was born First Month 29th, 1843, and 
was the oldest child of Elisha Roberts and Elisabeth 
West Hooton, and was named Sarah Hooton, for her 
maternal grandmother. Her parents were descended 
from a long line of Quaker ancestors, John and Sarah 
Roberts having come from Northampton, England, in 
1677 "on the good ship Kent." This was the first boat 
that came up the Delaware, and it was tied to a syca- 
more, tradition says, which still flourishes at Burling- 
ton, New Jersey. 

Three years later they settled on the north branch of 
Pensauken creek, two miles west of Moorestown, where 
a simple monument commemorates this event and the 
founding of a prosperous and influential family. Thomas 
Hooton also came over in this same year, and part of 
the original Hooton tract of land south of Moorestown 
is owned by my uncles David and Joseph Hooton 
Roberts. Daniel Leeds, my father's maternal ancestor 
and the first surveyor-general of New Jersey, arrived in 
1680, and these four names are written in the book of 
"first settlers," kept with the state archives at Bur- 



My mother was born on the farm now owned by 
Thornton Hollingshead on the Moorestown turnpike; 
and later her father bought part of the old Hooton 
track on the Hooton road where he built "Woodside." 

He was the oldest son of David and Rachel Hunt 
Roberts, of Fellowship, New Jersey, and they were all 
Quakers of the old school. Strong and upright in char- 
acter, just and conscientious in their dealings with all, 
they combined strong religious convictions with broad 
sympathies and wide interests in everything affecting 
their families, meetings and neighborhood. They are 
always spoken of in the highest terms, and I am glad 
they are a vivid and well remembered part of my 
early childhood. 

My mother grew up as the eldest daughter of such a 
family would in those days; the righthand helper of 
her mother, skilled in the welfare of the family and the 
conservation of all household supplies and opportuni- 
ties, and the nurse and companion of her younger 
brothers and sisters. 

She also delighted in outdoor duties, and was, of 
course, experienced with horses. My father had left 
Westtown two years before she entered, and while she 
did not graduate there she was assistant teacher her 
last year. 

Her aunt Esther Roberts used to quote to her the 
saying of William Penn (how happily she was able to 
carry it out!) "Never marry but for love, but see that 
thou lovest what is lovely." She did not meet my father 
for two or three years after he came to the country, 
although the praises of each were sung to the other by 
admiring friends and relatives. The introduction once 



gained, he lost no opportunity to become better and 
better acquainted, and their engagement was announced 
in the spring of 1866. He told her he "had little to 
offer, no money, only love and care and devotion," and 
my mother felt that she had little to bring to him. 

A few extracts follow from letters written by my 
father to my mother during their engagement, telling 
of early farming experiences, the hopes and pleasures, 
the success and failure that came in those days, even 
as now. Farmers will appreciate the dates, for every- 
one hopes to pick a basket of tomatoes by the Fourth 
of July, and to have beets for Sixth Month Quarterly 

7-3-'66. 6.45 A. M. 

My dear S. Just done breakfast; late, but I had been mowing 
since 4.40, anxious to finish cutting before Parry comes for the 
machine. Today is going to be very good haying weather, I think, 
and I hope to finish harvesting tomorrow. 

* * * Speaking of breakfast, I ought to have mentioned 
what delicacies I had. Fried tomatoes! Uncle Nathan found a 
couple ripe yesterday in crossing our patch; he ate one raw, I 
one cooked, according to our preferences. I expect to have some 
for market next week. * * * 

* * * Cousin Henry Leeds this morning said that they 
could not get their wheat cut. I don't see how it is possible for 
me to assist. My potatoes are not half out, the price is already 
down to seventy cents and everything nearly on the farm wants 
tending and hoeing; however, I will see this afternoon. Things 
look kind of blue. It would be very nice to be rich; independent of 
these little failures, but still I believe it better as it is. 

9th. 6.30 A. M. 

* * * Just back from hunting up pickers to get out potatoes. 
It seems impossible to keep them steadily at it. Last night we 
had a nice shower. It seems to invite us to put out cabbage 



plants, though hardly enough to insure their living. I now want 
to go to the store and to the Post Office and to Haddonfield after 
plants, and to pick early tomatoes, etc. I think I never had quite 
so much on hand at once, and I certainly never intend to have 

By the way, I sat for some photographs this morning; had 
rather go to the dentist. 

7-8-'66. 3 P. M. 93° F. 

* * * I spent last evening after half past eight on the porch 
playing the flute. I went over all the old tunes I knew by ear. 
This morning at meeting Philena and children spoke of being 
"well entertained," etc. I did not suppose they .could hear so 
plainly. Have been playing over a few favorite slow airs on the 
flute. "Oft in the Stilly Night," "0 Would I Were with Thee," 
etc., etc., etc. 


* * * With a horse sick and being away all morning at 
meeting, nothing being done in the meantime, etc., etc., yesterday 
was a blue day for me. 


* * * Thomas Scattergood came, and did enjoy it so much. 
He said so time and again. Came up at six o'clock; a very busy 
day for me. I had been to Burlington and Westfield twice; pick- 
ing truck and berries, buying and getting berry boxes, and chests 
ordered to fit them. Met T. S. at station in the market wagon, 
loaded up some chests at wheelwright's; had him (T. S.) help fill 
and load them and carry down cellar that night, then supper with 
blackberries sugared and creamed, then an examination of indoor 
premises and belongings, the hour for music, and school talk till 

Next day meeting, after a short ride in fall top, returned home 
by way of Fork Landing to meet S. P. Leeds in the saddle with a 
new horse secured by trade from a band of gypsies. 

Then Doll unharnessed, saddled and bridled to show off; 
Tommy mounted to try her and Sam's strength; result, I had to 
mount Dolly, and in a burst of two hundred yards proved his 



fourth new horse inferior to my pet; then dinner — unabated talk 
till 3:30, meanderings on and above the farm (apple trees under- 
stood), to finish among the blackberries with more of them at 
supper at five. Then Dolly, and the ride through the Lippincott 
road circumnavigating D. Comfort's, etc., wonderfully to enjoy 
Sabbath eve in Moorestown. (With my mother.) 

My parents had expected a rather long engagement, 
but as a farmer has most leisure in winter they hurried 
their preparations, and were married the 22nd of 
Eleventh Month, 1866. 

We are happy to have found this description of the 
event written by my father on their silver wedding 
anniversary : 

Ivystone, N. J., ll-22-'91. 8:45 A. M. 

My dear daughter, Susan J. Allen: — 

This day and hour twenty-five years ago, mamma and I and 
our best friends were in a state of more or less excitement. Only 
an hour and a quarter till we should all be about seating ourselves 
in the Moorestown meeting house. At this time we were all 
assembled at uncle Joseph Hooton's, and were making last prepa- 
rations before taking the carriages; cousin Barclay Leeds and 
cousin Lydia Wills, now Evans, were first bridesmaid and grooms- 
man, the former staying all night here. 

The day was very much such an one as this seems likely to be; 
rather cool and cloudy most of the time, though there was occa- 
sional sunshine, and perhaps a few drops of rain. We had a 
crowded meeting house, and were married about eleven o'clock. 
The wedding dinner was to be at Grandfather Roberts's, so as soon 
as we could get into the carriages after meeting we drove rapidly 
to the house. 

We had a delightful reception and dinner, etc., there, and about 
four o'clock drove down to the city or rather rode, in a closed car- 
riage, cousin Barclay Leeds accompanying us to the New York 
depot, then uptown. There was a little sunshine in the afternoon, 
and as we went along to New York the moon in its third quarter 



was riding high in the heavens, with but few clouds to interfere. 
We went to the Fifth Avenue Hotel, and spending the next day 
in New York went that evening to West Point, and so on to Niagara, 
staying a few days there; and then returned home to find a nice 
little company of our relatives and friends to receive us, and the 
house carpeted, curtained and furnished, so that the change 
seemed like a fairy tale or land. We enjoyed the trip very much, 
but it was a stormy season of the year, and we had a great deal of 
rain, and caught colds which stayed with us a good while. 

My mother gives these further details: 

The dinner was prepared by an experienced neighborhood cook, 
as caterers were unknown in the country, and about one hundred 
guests sat around large U-shaped tables, while the bridesmaids 
and groomsmen waited on the guests. It was about the last of 
the "sitting down weddings" I attended, and a little roast pig 
with an apple in its mouth was placed in front of us. I felt it was 
the happiest day of my life, and the reception seemed very short. 

We wished a convenient home made of the little farm house at 
Ivystone, so city carpenters removed the winding stairs, put in a 
door between the new stone and old frame part of the house and 
took out the great kitchen and sitting room fireplaces and big 
chimneys. Remember, that was over fifty years ago, but we 
found the fireboard stove that we installed in the sitting room a 
great convenience and comfort, with its small oven above, where 
the soapstone brick was kept, always ready for long, cold drives. 
In the spring the mantel held tumblers filled with water where 
seeds were tested on cotton before planting. 

The house was finally ready, for every one helped, and there 
had been sewing bees and quilting parties, and a very modest 
trousseau prepared, for it was war time, and prices were very high. 

Many companies were given for us, and when returning from 
one at Daniel Wills's in Rancocas we had a very narrow escape. 
We had been out so much that we both went to sleep almost as 
soon as we were settled in the carriage. Faithful Dolly knew the 
road well, but we were wakened by her stopping suddenly with 
her feet splashing in water. 



We found we were on the causeway before it turns to enter the 
covered bridge that crosses the Rancocas creek at Bridgeboro, 
New Jersey. The tide had risen, and, although this road was 
rather high, with deep ditches on either side, these were filled 
and the water had overflowed the road. Samuel lowered the fall 
top and stood up and took his bearings, but did not say a word. 

I thought, "Oh! if he only would speak!" At length he started 
Dolly slowly on the curving road to the bridge, watching the light 
on the far end of it, and guiding his course by a certain large tree 
and the bushes along the road. Finally we reached the bridge 
safely, but never can I forget the anxiety of those moments, nor 
our providential guidance. 

From the beginning it was necessary to practice many econo- 
mies, and Samuel was always interested in helping me in every 
way possible. As an example, years later I was very anxious to 
have an oilcloth on the kitchen floor, so we made one similar to 
one at Cousin Henry Wills's. I took a rag carpet that he had had 
from his bachelor days, and darned it thoroughly and mended all 
the thin places and tacked it to the garret floor. I used a white- 
wash brush and sized it with thin paste, and gave it numerous 
coats of paint. Then he cut a pattern of maple leaves in tin with 
which I stenciled "the oilcloth" in green. 

He could always help me with everything, from beating the 
bread sponge when without a maid to making a design for my 
fancywork, and I never seemed to have any perplexity in my 
household affairs that he could not solve. Some wives do not tell 
their husbands of their difficulties, but I had to, and he could tell 
the best way to do, with such apparent ease ! I never allowed him 
to have much care of the babies at night, for he needed the rest 
after so much brain work. He was a true helpmeet. 

The spring of 1868 my parents, Elisha and Elizabeth W. Roberts, 
opened the Hotel Chalfonte at Atlantic City, which they had built 
the year before, and I frequently went down with other near rela- 
tives to prepare for the "openings." While we considered it a 
grand outing, we went there to work, sewing and making and lay- 
ing carpets, and I even made the first hassocks used there. 



The following extracts are from letters written to my 
mother in 1868-69 while she was there with her first 
child. My father engaged the maids for many years, 
while the children were small, and he makes humorous 
references to his housekeeping experiences : 

* * * Bridget seems to get along very well, though I always 
feel unable to judge of such things; the meals, however, appear 
at the right time. I have a good time, too; though the hens 
don't lay much I have plenty of eggs, and "help self to 'serves!" 

It was hard to have thee to go away, but now I think it the 
very thing; there's much truth in mother's observation, "that 
sometimes we stay at home until we think we can't leave"; again, 
I sometimes think short and unexpected pleasures are most enjoyed; 
like bright sun 'mid evening showers, the rainbows stretch wide 
and high. 

Uncle Edwin was here this P. M. after a few tomato plants, 
etc. I showed him ripe fruit, but did not think to give him any, 
though careful to tell him we had had them for breakfast; tomor- 
row I shall endeavor to pick a basket, and I think can easily do it. 
There were a few "Jersey Toms" in town today at six dollars per 
basket. We concluded there was a very fair show both for early 
and for a large amount of fruit. 

* * * I wonder if Willie would once think of writing to me 
in my loneliness? I saw young catchable meadow larks today, 
also came within two inches and three-quarters of cutting Chris' 
tail off with the mowing machine; if her head had fallen the 
mourners had been few. 

I forgot to say that this epistle ceased to grow for half an hour 
or so while I ate supper; eggs and preserves, of course. It is now 
9 :45 P. M., and as it is much easier to sleep than add more to this 
weary length of hieroglyphics, and the market book is yet to be 
made out, and Bridget has climbed the stairs, and the dog stopped 
barking, and the fire gone out, and my eyes hurt, and the crickets 
won't stop, nor the moon, I send thee abundance of love for self 



distribution pro rata, so will cease without further ado; and 
trusting roses or at least pinks may visit thy face within the week, 

Thy loving husband, 

Samuel L. Allen. 
(To S. H. A. and Lily at Chalfonte) 

Cinnaminson, N. J., 7th Month 21st, 1868. 
Ivtstone, 8:25 P. M. 

Dearest S. — Mary Mac. is alone in the kitchen; I shipped 
Bridget & Co. this afternoon; perfectly unbearable to all hands; 
boys have not eaten bread since 7th day till this evg. when I bo't 
baker's at the store. I can't tell why I ever brought her home. 
Shall try again tomorrow. Wish to buy also, yeast and hops; 
the former is worthless, the latter "fusty." David and Joey 
have been sitting near, while with window and door .open I dis- 
coursed sweet (?) music from my "stick." They have concluded 
just now to go to sleep upstairs instead of here, and D. is striking 
a light, while Joey balances a heavy head on the lounge. I expect 
little Lily becomes lovelier each hour. I can see her bright eyes 
and sweet smile before me. * * * 

6:10 A. M. 

Just done breakfast: some comfort in not being afraid to eat! 
I hope Lily will not be troublesome: I think it quite important 
not to allow her to worry thee, and hope thee will return really 
much recruited. I want you both to do so * * * Thy bill 
of fare tempts comparison. "Variety is the spice of life," they 
say. We had last evg., apple sauce, grape sauce, honey sauce, 
beefsteak, dried beef and sturgeon beef, pickles, beside the usual 
addenda, tea, bread and butter; the last three I would have enjoyed 
had thee prepared them, and myself grown the wheat the bread 
was produced from. * * * 

I expect the miseries of four o'clock rising are unknown at 
Chalfonte! I think we are as lusty as ever, and I guess it will be 
sometime before we will get our work done. Having squeezed my 



news holder and stripped it clean three or four times, will now close, 
with the modest hope that nothing has been forgotten that would 
interest. * * * 

Thomas and Annie Downs were a very bright Irish 
couple who farmed for my father from 1870 for eighteen 
years, except one absence of two years. He came to 
see us in the fall of 1919, and his vivid account follows 
of some of the experiences of those early days : 

I had heard that Mr. Allen had need of a man, and was told if 
I wanted to catch him I would have to see him in the dark, before 
it was morning. I walked in and the dogs were barkin', and I told 
Emanuel my errand. 

Pretty soon Mr. Allen came out and talked to me, and I remem- 
ber today every question he asked. "Are you a team-driver?" 
"Can you work on a farm?" and I told him I could do anything 
that anyone else could do. "Where have you worked?" "How 
long?" "Where next?" "How long?" and so on, and I told him, 
and he engaged me, and I stayed seven years. 

I was the greatest egg-plant grower ever known. Why, one year, 
1875, we got $484.85 from one acre of egg-plants! And in 1876, 
$984.85 from a single acre. Mr. Allen measured the acre. But the 
next year I lost my luck, and I never had such good success again. 
They brought $2.50 a dozen. Some were sold in Philadelphia. 
We used to wrap them in soft tissue paper and pack them in sugar 
barrels because there were no nails in them, and taking them to 
Riverton, ship them straight to New York. 

One year I took twenty-one loads of marketing to town in one 
week from less than sixty acres, and we did not count the lanes, 
and we had seven acres of it in wheat. It often made me feel 
kind of dumb, your father knew so much. I used to come to the 
window every morning and get his orders. After I left him, and 
I was asked how much fertilizer I used to a row or an acre, I said 
I didn't know, Mr. Allen always told me. He knew in a minute 
just how much of each kind to put together when he was told the 
number and length of the rows. 



Sweet potatoes used to be kept in your dining-room, but they 
steamed so much that we built a potato-house, putting in a large 
stove. We stored three thousand baskets there, and kept the 
temperature at seventy-five for the first ten days, then dropped 
to forty or fifty degrees. I built a big board chimney full of holes, 
to the roof, to drain out the sweat of the potatoes from the heat, 
and they used to keep fine. 

Mr. Allen built a little gravity railroad with a track some 
twenty feet long that hooked to the side of the wagon, the other 
end reaching into the potato house. A small car holding just one 
basket ran down quickly by gravity, and the empty basket came 
flying back on the car drawn by a rope with a balance weight at 
the other end. I stood on the wagon and loaded the car, and two 
men in the potato-house unloaded them. It took us only seven 
minutes to unload seventy-two baskets, a full load in those days. 
Mr. Allen timed us. 

I did all his errands for him in the city : he'd say go here and go 
there. And I bought the slabs for the little ice-house, and hauled 
them up from Camden. This famous house was eight-sided, and 
was built of rough boards, having two walls about eighteen inches 
apart. The roof was supported a foot above the top of the side- 
walls, leaving ample air space. There was no floor, but a foot of 
sawdust was put on the ground, and the ice laid around layer by 
layer, a foot from the walls, with broken ice filling the center, and 
plenty of sawdust packed on the sides and top, with pine boughs 
over all, to keep it from blowing away. In the fall, when we came 
to fill it again, we frequently found a big cake of ice in the bottom. 



A DEFINITE spiritual feeling always pervaded our 
home from my earliest recollection; my parents 
L came from families where a Christian walk was 
earnestly followed, and while none of my grandparents 
were ministers, they were elders in the Society of 
Friends, and deeply concerned for the best and highest 
welfare of their children. 

The night of their engagement my father requested 
mother to "read a chapter," and she chose the fifteenth 
of John. Thus their religious lives united, and a calm 
Christian faith and belief in Christ as their Saviour was 
the groundwork of my parents' character, and while it 
was not much talked of, it was there as a matter of 
course, and tempered and regulated their daily fives. 

I have found one or two letters of counsel among my 
father's papers, and the following from James Allinson, 
long since deceased, so clearly and beautifully expresses 
a Christian's faith and belief tfiat it seems to me worth 
all the rest of the book. May it strengthen every one 
who reads it: 

c T . „ Yakdville, Pa., 10-29-1869. 

S. L. Allen, 

My dear Friend: — It is late and I ought to be in bed, but feel 
that I must not let another day pass without giving thee a saluta- 
tion of Christian love, and encouraging thee to hold fast the begin- 
ning of thy confidence and not be discouraged by the subsidence 
of the warmth of feeling which thee experienced at the time of 
our parting. 



Bear in mind that thy salvation is accomplished and that thou 
art only kept from the knowledge and enjoyment thereof by the 
wonderfully varied and cunning devices of the enemy of souls. 
Have patience with thyself. Remember that thou didst solemnly 
avow a belief that salvation was freely offered to thee, and a desire 
to do all that remains for the creature to do, viz., "to take the 
cup of salvation and call upon the name of the Lord." 

Date thy conversion from the moment of that avowal; con- 
sider thyself a child of God, and humbly trust in his mercy; be 
not discouraged at the season of darkness which will naturally 
precede the dawn of day. I had to grope in darkness for more 
than a week, but in His own good time my Heavenly Father 
opened my eyes to see Jesus as my Saviour. I prayed that those 
days might be shortened; but God's ways are not as our ways. I 
now see that this season of waiting was needed to strengthen and 
deepen my faith, and to teach me to trust in Him at all times, 
whether I can feel His presence or not. 

"Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth and scourge th every 
son whom He receiveth." "No chastening for the present seemeth 
to be joyous but grievous, but afterward it yieldeth the peaceable 
fruit of righteousness." I wish to say for thy encouragement, 
whereas two weeks ago tonight I was dead in sin, now already I 
can rejoice with joy unspeakable. 

Thy growth may be less rapid or it may be more so. Do write 
to me that I may rejoice with thee or perchance comfort thee in 
thy trials. I often pray for thee. I send thee a copy of the little 
book that was so blessed to my comfort, hoping for like results 
for thee.* 

I am in tender love thy friend, 

James Allinson. 

Great-aunt Elizabeth Allen was a very dear, sweet 
minister in the Society of Friends, drawing every one 
by her gentle spirit and loving counsel. She gave a 

*Note — It is regretted the name of the book is unknown. 



large family Bible to father when he went to the farm, 
and sent the following acrostic: 

To Samuel L. and Sarah H. Allen upon the occasion of their 
marriage, 11-22-1866. 

Seek ye the Lord while He may be found, call ye upon Him while 
He is near. 

And the work of righteousness shall be peace, and the effect of right- 
eousness, quietness and assurance forever. 

Afan is like to vanity; his days are as a shadow that passeth away. 

l/nto the upright there ariseth light in the darkness; he is gracious 

and full of compassion and righteous. 
Eveiy word of God is pure. He is a shield unto them that put their 

trust in Him. 
Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart. 

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good 

works, and glorify your Father which is in Heaven. 
Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth. 

.And walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us, and hath given him- 
self for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet smelling 

/Rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation, continuing instant in prayer. 

.And whatsoever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the 

Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by Him. 
He that hath my commandments and keepeth them, he it is that 

loveth me, and he that loveth me shall be loved of my Father and 

I will love him and will manifest myself to him. 
Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us, and sent 

His son to be the propitiation for our sins. 
Abstain from all appearance of evil, and the very God of peace sanctify 

you wholly. 
Let your conversation be without covetousness, and be content with 

such tiling as ye have, for He hath said, I will never leave thee 

nor forsake thee. 
Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter. Fear God and keep 

His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God 

shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, 

whether it be good or whether it be evil. 
£ye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath entered into the heart 

of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love 


Now the God of peace, that brought again from the dead our Lord 
Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the 
everlasting covenant, make you perfect in every good work to do 
His will, working in you that which is well pleasing in His sight, 
through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen. 



This account of my grandmother, Rebecca Leeds 
Allen, was written by my father, probably as a sugges- 
tion for a notice in The Friend. It seems appropriate 
here as showing the Christian influences that helped to 
mould his character: 

ClNNAMINSON, N. J., 12-18-'91. 

In looking back over the forty years of my life, during which I 
can recollect the anxious care of my mother over us, I never 
remember an instance when she reproved us in anger; it was 
foreign to her nature to endeavor to correct us by other means 
than those of love, sorrow and persuasion. 

She was greatly concerned for our religious welfare, not desirous 
of great possessions for us, but ever fearful of our becoming too 
much engrossed in the things of the world; her desire being that 
we should have our hearts set on things above, and not get too 
deeply interested in matters which however good in themselves 
might claim our attention too closely. She always expressed her- 
self in regard to our Society with much feeling, and frequently 
spoke of her desire for its best welfare, and that no stumbling 
blocks should be encountered and that the proper thing should 
always be done in its season. 

She deplored the horrors of war and the iniquities of man that 
so often led to bloodshed or cruelty. Strife and wrong were abhor- 
rent to her, and tales of woe and suffering were always heard with 
sorrow and sympathy. She was ever an example to us of meek- 
ness and faith, of patience and kindness. A diligent attender of 
meetings, she was anxious they should be conducted to the honor 
of the Master, and desirous that her own duty therein should be 
fully performed, and was excellent of discernment and very useful 
in matters of church discipline. 

She was endowed with an admirable memory, and interested 
deeply in the progress of the human race, a constant watcher of 
the movements of the nations of the world and conversant with 
the topics of the times; thus making her conversation broad and 
instructive, and her judgment comprehensive in many weighty 



She was not unfrequently engaged as a companion to ministers 
in their religious visits, or upon committees entrusted with the 
weightier matters of the society, often to the relief and comfort of 
the friends she accompanied, and to the cause in which she was 

The latter days of her life were rendered more burdensome and 
less useful by several attacks of paralysis, which gradually weak- 
ened both body and mind. These attacks occurred at intervals 
during the last few years of her life, and for about three months 
she was mostly confined to her bed. How often during the last 
few months she would smile sweetly, when she was unable to 
clothe her thoughts in the proper words. 

Her final decline was very gradual, and while she seemed sen- 
sible of what was passing around her until comparatively near 
her close, she said little; but I reverently believe she was pre- 
pared for her eternal rest. 

Born First Month 4th, 1815. Died Seventh Month 31st, 1890. 

J. Henry Bartlett wrote in The Friend of my father: 

We seek for the key of human character in environment and 
heredity. Of late the tendency has been to magnify the former 
influence, and to minimize the latter. It seems to be true that over- 
developed strains of heredity may lead to peculiarity poorly 
adapted to the adjustments of ordinary living. A very different 
picture is presented in a happy blend of hereditary gifts. 

Samuel L. Allen was a singularly felicitous fusion of two very 
distinct parental endowments. His father will be remembered as 
a rare combination of the plain Friend and what the French call 
the vivant. His constant stream of sparkling wit demanded in his 
hearers a well-developed sense of humor for sympathetic appre- 
ciation. Where it played upon such he was the most delightful 
conversationalist and companion. 

In his son this gift was also a dominant note and was used with 
a restraint that was peculiarly engaging. How often was he able 
to resolve difficult situations and to dispel approaching storms in 
a hearty laugh! 

The key of this kindly consideration was in measure to be 



found in the definite heredity of his revered mother, Rebecca 
Leeds Allen. She seemed always to incarnate "the loving kind- 
ness of the Lord." Her ministrations were unfailing in the soli- 
tary and unexpected places. There was with her, however, no 
failure to give full measure of service to the more public calls of 
meetings and of society at large. 

Samuel L. Allen also did not shrink from doing the large things 
that his expanded business made possible, albeit he did them with 
the modesty of real humility. His measure of serving others 
privately will never be known. This at least is true, his more 
private benefactions expressed a tenderness and consideration of 
feeling that could not have failed to suggest his mother to those 
who knew her. 

In both mother and son the background of such characteristics 
was a profoundly religious nature. Without any pretention what- 
ever they sought the way of life and walked in it with sweet 
humility. It is ever the duty and privilege of a present age to 
transmit to posterity a full measure of the endowments of the 
past. Samuel L. Allen was signally faithful in this high behest. 
"One generation shall praise thy works to another, and shall 
declare thy mighty acts." 

My brother-in-law, W. Henry Elfreth, remarked 
more than once: 

There are not ten men in a century born like Samuel Allen. 
There are many great business men; there are many great in- 
ventors and there are many who are beautiful Christian char- 
acters. There are many men who combine two of these character- 
istics, but there are not ten men born in a century who combine 
all three qualities in the degree in which they were found in Samuel 
L. Allen. He remained boyish in spirit, and was one of the few 
men whose property did not destroy his ideals. 

Sarah H. Allen, San Jose ' Cal " Skth Month 12 > 1918 - 

My dear cousin: — * * * I always think of Cousin Samuel as 
being a remarkably versatile man. On top of this, I think of him 
as a Christian man of business. Higher than this, was his love for 



God and his fellowmen. Success did not chill his heart — it broad- 
ened him and enlarged his vision and spirit of love toward others 
not so fortunate. If he knew of those caught in a financial tangle 
and had confidence in them, whilst very careful not in any way to 
assume undue responsibility, he was ready to help until the stress 
had passed by, in proportion to his means. He seemed so eager 
to help institutions or individuals presenting a worthy cause to 
him. Indeed, I have known him to be so impressed and enlarged 
in sympathy with respect to the misfortunes of others, as volun- 
tarily to assist them. It seemed to be his pleasure literally to 
cause the widow's heart to sing for joy. 

Thy husband was remarkably alive to spiritual perceptions, for 
a man engrossed in business. Thus I recall once talking to him 
about the declaration or rather prayer of our Lord: " I thank Thee 
Father, Lord of Heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these 
things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto 
babes." He expressed his feeling that this was one of the most 
remarkable declarations contained in the New Testament. 

Sincerely thy cousin, 

William C. Allen. 



THE first recollection I have of my father is on one 
Christmas morning when I hurried downstairs to 
find my stocking full of odd-shaped packages that 
overflowed into a long chain of bundles, ending at the 
head of the lounge. I believe his pleasure equaled 
mine as I unwrapped nuts, candy, oranges, apples and 
other childish delights. The large package at the end 
of the chain was a mystery with many wrappings, but 
at last a small one in the center disclosed two five-cent 
pieces! On another memorable occasion I was encour- 
aged to sit in the kitchen after supper with my new 
"English Reader," until father came out, and taking 
my hand led me through the dining-room, hall and 
sitting-room into the kitchen. The lights were turned 
low and we made the round again and no questions were 
answered, but on the third dark journey the crack of 
the hall door showed lights in the corner of the sitting- 
room. Rushing in, I found a beautiful playhouse bril- 
liant with candles, and to this day I do not believe any 
modern wonder of the kind gives more solid satisfaction 
than did mine. 

Reduced to common terms it was only a large packing 
box cut in half diagonally. A box, did I say? Not at 
all! It was a three-story apartment with kitchen, 
parlor and bedroom, all neatly papered and carpeted, 
and furnished — how beautifully! Father and mother 



had made it all with loving care, he designing the pattern 
for the lambrequins and making the wooden fretwork 
that relieved square edges. 

These were the first of a long series of "surprises" 
in our family life, that we each enjoyed making quite 
as much as receiving, so that Alexander C. Wood called 
us the "family of surprises." Birthday presents 
appeared in most unexpected places; a chair when 
drawn from the table would be piled with packages or a 
long string led to unusual results. My plate at supper 
once bore a gold watch instead of a slice of tongue, 
while a lump in the sugar bowl proved to be a charming 

If my mother had to be away for several weeks, 
father loved to make some definite improvement in the 
house or furnishings to welcome her return; and we 
watched with great expectancy her discovery of the 
fresh paint, paper or carpet that had been planned with 
such loving care for her comfort and pleasure. One 
evening when she opened her closet door to put away 
her bonnet, she found instead of neatly filled shelves 
and hanging garments a narrow hall! To her intense 
astonishment it led to a neat little bathroom that had 
been built out from the second story. Although exposed 
on five sides to the north and west, so thoroughly was it 
interlined that the pipes have never frozen in over 
thirty years, not even in the bitter winter of 1920. 

Of course mother loved to make "surprises" for father 
and I was usually in the secret, being older than the 
other children. Frequently it was a favorite dish for 
the table or ice cream, or "company to supper," but 
the one I enjoyed the most was when mother and I 



edged the walks and swept them carefully, the strokes of 
the broom being made to converge at the centre at just 
the angle that father liked best. Then mother would 
tell me to ride over the paths a few times with my 
tricycle; and we usually had to hurry to put away the 
tools before he drove down the lane while we watched 
to see if he "noticed" our little "surprise." 

I have been asked why I put in so much about farm- 
ing. "It isn't interesting, and Samuel Allen was so much 
besides a farmer!" My reply then and now is, skip this 
or any other part that "isn't interesting," for tastes 
differ widely; but to my father's experience in farming 
and the lack of good implements to perform the 
necessary work, the world owes the splendid "Planet 
Junior" series of agricultural implements. These tools 
and other improved and wonderful machines make farm- 
ing easier for those regularly engaged in it, while it is 
becoming a popular and fascinating relaxation for many 
who look towards country life longingly from the whirl 
of cities. 

Among our wide circle of friends, many of the children 
of my father's and mother's contemporaries are managing 
ancestral farms. Several near relatives are making a 
fine success with "up-to-date farming methods," so I 
think of these as I write of our happy life at Ivystone, 
and of other friends just as dear in mentioning other 

My father spent over thirty years on a farm; my 
mother was born on one, and it was the background 
and framework of all our lives until 1895. Untiring 
effort the first ten years on the farm laid the foundation 
for success that came little by little with much hard 



work. As invention and manufacturing increasingly 
absorbed my father's time, he farmed on shares; yet 
the first basket of tomatoes or eggplants marketed in 
the seventies was as great an event as the winning of a 
golf match in the twentieth century, and the sun and 
wind and rain were studied as carefully then for "the 
crops" as they were later for holidays. 

This letter of Twelfth Month 29th, 1868, to David 
Roberts, gives a good season's end picture and an 
amusing sidelight on the family life at Woodside, my 
mother's old home: 

It is rather a leisure time, most everything clewed up for the 
winter except we have a day or two in the ditches. We are hauling 
manure from the city, are about manuring the strawberries and 
expect to thresh rye, make mats, etc., soon."* 

Have between 3000 and 4000 heads of cabbage buried, 600 
baskets of sweet potatoes keeping nicely, with some wheat, peas, 
white potatoes and vinegar to sell. We had about 150 baskets of 
turnips, about 40 from the ones thee sowed so late near the woods. 

I was today in Moorestown to dinner by accident, and afterwards 
went to Jonathan's (Williams) and saw Willie in school (William 
H.Roberts). No one at home at Moorestown but Annie. Father 
had gone with grandfather and Uncle Edwin to The Pines to 
survey some timber which had been burned over this summer; 
mother was in the city, Lizzie at Marshalton, pretty well scattered. 
They live very nicely, and when the girls are at home they are 
fond of company, six hats having been seen and counted approaching 
at once! 

I was exceedingly fond of picking berries with the 
pickers and very happy that I received the same pay 
per box as they. One busy time I took charge of them 
an entire day, wearing the little apron that held the 

* Note. — Straw mats were made to cover the hotbeds, and corahusks used for 



tickets, and paying each one as the berries were brought 
in. That night I nearly burst with joy and pride when 
my father paid me a man's wages for my day's work, 
"a dollar red ticket!" I was much annoyed one after- 
noon when he said it was going to storm and insisted 
that I go to the house at once. I remember yet the 
pickers hurrying to shelter, while the next moment, it 
seemed, came the sound of breaking glass, and I rushed 
upstairs to find rain and hailstones pouring into the 
room where my aunt was sick in bed, the hailstones 
rattling across the floor and narrow hall, and a few 
rolling downstairs. 

My grandfather John C. Allen wrote the following 
description at the time: 

* * * Samuel was at home that day and had 350 quarts of 
blackberries picked in the morning, expecting to pick at least 
250 quarts more after dinner, but about one o'clock a black cloud 
overshadowed them and hail began to descend in torrents! In 
about twenty minutes all his hopes for farming this season were 
blasted! All his crops destroyed and driven into the earth! Black- 
berries, tomatoes, corn, white and sweet potatoes, pickles, egg- 
plants, apples and pears, all gone! 

He had about six acres each of corn and tomatoes and black- 
berries; all said to be the best and most promising for large and 
profitable crops of any in the neighborhood ! Thus destroyed in a 
few minutes! What a sudden change! What a great loss! S. 
estimates his loss between $2500 and $3000.00. 

The hailstones that fell on his farm were very numerous, and 
generally rather less than an inch in diameter; but some were about 
two and one half inches in diameter, that is, about the size of 
ordinary door knobs! 

As he has lost his ordinary crops, and it is too late to replant them, 
he has plowed up his fields and sowed corn and grass seeds for 
fodder and hay. He has also planted some pickles and other small 
matters, but yesterday's beating rain of near three inches has 



washed many of them out of the ground. His four north windows 
were all dashed to pieces and the rain poured into the rooms, 
soaking the carpets and wetting the beds before they could prevent 

Can any of us ever forget our delightful childhood at 
Ivystone, when it seemed that planning some pleasure 
or happiness for us was ever an undercurrent of our 
parents' busy lives? This impressed me even when six 
years old, for in writing to my father who was on a 
business trip mother says: 

My Own Dear: * * * Thy letter this evening was very 
acceptable indeed, and a very pleasant surprise as I scarcely looked 
for one before tomorrow. Lily says "Oh! he's a dear good Papa, 
I told him to write and tell just how many orders, and he did it"; 
and then directly afterwards she said, "Oh! he's such a hind 
Papa, isn't he?" * * * 

My father took a particular satisfaction in making 
kites for me, as he had been interrupted in his own 
youth, sympathizing with my distress when mine fell 
across the wheat field, winding the string and showing 
me how to step carefully through the wheat. Japanese 
kites were a marvel to him and one summer we had 
three "birds" tied on our lawn, where we could watch 
their graceful curves in the varying breeze. 

The first overshoes made were nearly pure rubber, 
almost one-eighth of an inch thick, flat like a mitten, 
and expected to stretch to fit a shoe. We have one of 
these yet and I wish I had the wonderful ball that 
father made for me to play "Anthony Over." He cut 
thin strips from this rubber shoe top, and rolled them 
tight like the core of a golf ball, then carefully wound 
the yarn pulled from an old sock over this till a perfect 



sphere resulted, and then my dear mother crocheted 
a tight cover on to the yarn with thread dyed bright 
in pokeberry juice! Wasn't I proud! and the ball 
bounced beautifully. 

Children of today are better off perhaps with so many 
mechanical toys and luxuries, but can they be any 
happier than those of fifty years ago? I remember the 
picture of "the poor little rich boy" at Christmas, gazing 
at his perfect train with its full crew, saying, "but 
mother, what can /be?" 

Our first skating pond was a small hollow under an 
apple tree, flooded by pumping water into it through a 
wooden trough, and was "large enough for two to skate 
on, one at a time." Here with our mother's skates and 
a kitchen chair for a partner we learned to stand alone 
and cut circles. 

What joy it was to follow the scraper as paths and 
roads were cleared after a heavy snow, when father's 
leather boots well padded with woolen socks, were a 
prized addition to the outfit, while a delightful climax to 
the evening meal was "the surprise" of snow cream my 
mother loved to make from freshly fallen snow. 

When attending the little meeting school at West- 
field, our teacher Helen Marshall told us to write a 
description of a person for a composition, letting the 
class guess the name, and giving us a few suggestions. 
The result of this effort when I was thirteen follows : 

The person is about six feet high, wears dark clothes and uses 
his brains a great deal. He is thirty-eight years old; has side 
whiskers and dark curly brown hair. His eyes are blue, constitution 
strong and light complexion. He farms on shares and has a store 
and large factory in the city. His boots are blacked every morning 



before he goes to the city. He is neat, rises early, goes to the city 
and comes home late. He is very erect and polite and goes in good 
company. He drives a bay horse and fall top. 

Year by year improvements were made at Ivystone 
and it was a delightful home in every sense of the word. 
We burned three lamps every evening, and in later 
years, father calculated it would cost only a few cents 
to burn three more, and then a light would show from 
each window facing the road upstairs and down, eleven 
in all. As a friend remarked, "the house looked so 
cheery and inviting, it was no wonder we had so many 

"Ad astra per aspera" (To the stars through diffi- 
culties) is the motto carved on the mantel of my 
parents' room at Pocono, and even in those early days 
it seems to have been the expression of their ideals, 
for nothing was too much trouble, no effort too great, 
no amount of repetition too wearisome if a perfect 
result was the reward. My mother in the affairs of the 
household and in her individual activities worked on 
this principle, while father backed any project in which 
he became interested with the full strength of his en- 
thusiasm and indomitable perseverance. In reading 
over the precepts in the first of the book and thinking 
of my father's character, it seems as if each rule had 
become an integral part of his life and that his method 
of thought was modeled on those lines. 

Mother was in the habit of making soap regularly 
by the saving of the household fats, adding borax to 
make it soft, and stirring it in the built-in iron wash- 
boiler in the summer kitchen. One day the draft was 
open in its square door, and her gingham apron caught 



fire! She sprang to the pump just behind her and 
pumped water on her clothes, and a workman passing 
used his coat and the flames were smothered. It was a 
narrow escape, for the niece of our farmer's wife had the 
same misfortune a few years ago, but did not discover 
it so promptly and was so badly burned that she died 
from the effects and the nervous shock! 

Our well at the house was called "the hundred-dollar 
well," because it was never known to go dry; one day 
the cream kettle slipped off the rope and down the well 
ruining it for months. All the water had to be pumped 
out and the sides scrubbed. Many of the old-fashioned 
things were made on our farm; apples were dried, hogs 
were killed, scrapple and sausage made, lard kettles 
filled, pork pickled and hams cured. One night my 
parents were awakened by a tremendous noise over- 
head which they were unable to account for, but finally 
deciding it was "just a noise" went to sleep again. 
Next morning they found a rat had run out on a beam 
where the hams hung in the garret and gnawed a 
greasy string, letting one fall in the middle of the night. 

Another time, my sister Emily was just recovering 
from scarlet fever, when mother smelled smoke after 
she had gone upstairs for the night. Rushing down, she 
saw fire in the sitting room closet. Shutting the door 
instantly, she called father as she dashed to the kitchen 
for a pan of water and was back with it as he came 
downstairs. Opening the closet door carefully he found 
the absence of air had kept the fire small, so that he 
could put it out with a few handfuls of water. Had the 
door not been shut while the water was brought, it 
would have been too late, for the closet was built by the 



furnace chimney and everything in it was warm and 
dry as tinder. 

A short time before my father had come down for 
a bottle of medicine after the lights were out, striking 
a match to look for it. Not finding it in the proper place, 
he had carried the match all the way through the hall, 
dining-room and kitchen, and finding the bottle there, 
put the match into the coal scuttle, but the head had 
fallen off, unobserved, on to some cotton goods on the 
closet shelf. After this, all kinds of matches were tried, 
until a Norwegian make was found that would burn to 
the end, yet the head remain stiff and firm. From that 
day on, only safety matches were used in our family. 
New York city prohibited the use of any other than 
safety matches years ago. Why should it not be the 
same everywhere? 

My father enjoyed talking with children and telling 
them funny stories, but these were always educational 
and never unkind. He loved to ask if they had ever seen 
a cherry-colored cat, or to tell them he wore crocheted 
shoes. Even "grownups" have been bewildered, for he 
would put out his shoe and say, "If those are not crow 
shade, what shade are they?" or, he would vary it when 
someone was knitting, by remarking that he wore 
crow shade shoes, etc. He delighted to ask a hungry 
boy, possibly while he was carving, how he spelled need, 
to need bread? To the reply "knead" my father would 
say, "Oh no! We knead dough, not bread." After we 
had made a visit at Cousin Joseph and Lydia Evans's long 
ago, the boys could hardly wait to run to their mother, 
saying, "Why Mamma, he's the man that knows every- 
thing!" I, too, always thought he knew everything! 



Ivystone stood back from the road and always 
looked cosy and inviting as one came down the lane, 
with lights shining from every window at night, tall 
trees on guard and flowers and shrubbery artistically 
disposed. It faced the south, the end towards the road 
being of native sandstone, bearing the date 1800. This 
was covered with a heavy growth of English ivy, 
whence came the appropriate name, "Ivystone." The 
western end was frame and fifty years older, and in it 
had been a large Dutch oven, but when stoves came 
into use the opening was filled with any stones conven- 
ient, one of them being a grave stone marked "A. L. 
1752." This had been discarded when Friends decided 
that tombstones were incompatible with the simplicity 
it was desired to maintain. 

From the first my father planned to beautify his 
home little by little, studying catalogues carefully and 
"buying a dollar's worth of shrubbery each year, which 
was more than I could afford." These plants were 
set in nursery rows and left to increase, then divided and 
placed in permanent positions. He took the greatest 
interest in landscape gardening and soon had read all 
the books on the subject in the Philadelphia libraries, 
and owned and studied with care the works of Donald 
G. Mitchell. He went to visit this famous author once, 
wandering over his grounds with much pleasure, but was 
too modest to ask for an interview. 

Father's love of beauty as shown by line and design 
he applied to all details of the lawn, and he always en- 
joyed the effect of our tennis court laid out on a level 
oval of grass cut into a gentle slope. Every possibility 
was utilized and every undulation increased to add to 



the interest of our surroundings. Just as the drive 
entered the lawn it swung in a graceful curve to the 
left, revealing the walk to the house from the carriage 
step, then turned to the right through a rustic arch 
to the farmyard. 

Everywhere were pleasing views, framed or empha- 
sized by appropriate planting, so that through the arch 
or under trees something enjoyable could be seen in any 
direction; a spot of color, an inviting walk, glowing 
flower beds or specimen trees. A favorite "surprise" 
was "the grass walk" around the extreme edge of the 
lawn, so skilfully planted that while the fence was un- 
suspected on the left, the house on the right was also 
hidden, and one could wander many rods in leafy and 
flowery seclusion. 

Norway spruce were planted on the north and west 
of the farm buildings, to break the winter winds and 
spring sand storms, while south of the barn were tall 
locusts. These were placed so there was an aerial 
pathway from them to the trees surrounding the house, 
and in summer the southwest winds were drawn straight 
to the porch, making a delightful breeze. Indeed it was 
frequently too cool to sit on our porch without light 
wraps, while neighbors were using fans on theirs. 

My father greatly admired a beautiful tree, yet he 
never allowed one to stand if it shaded the house too 
much or prevented free circulation of air. In this 
connection, the remark of a landscape gardener is 
appropriate who said of a certain community, "a sleet 
storm there was a necessity, as it was the only way the 
trees were ever trimmed." 

I have always been much impressed with this quota- 



tion from the "Longfellow Birthday Book": "If we 
could read the secret history of our enemies, we should 
find in each man's life, sorrow and suffering enough to 
disarm all hostility." So those looking only at the 
success that may come to a man or his family in later 
years of life are unaware of the hard work that was 
necessary to bring this result, or of the trials that 
frequently seemed as numerous as the blessings. 

Thus in reading old letters and note books of long 
ago, I find that my parents have had their share of 
troubles or "sanctifiers," for to bear with patience and 
courage and cheerfulness the small annoyances of 
daily life or the frustration of plans affecting a season's 
business, requires strength outside of one's self. 

Death visited our home in the early years, an infant 
son, Henry Gibbons, and a daughter, Anna W. Roberts, 
dying when a few months old. I can just remember the 
quiet house after the funerals, and I missed them very 
much as companions as years passed. 

Four children are living in 1920, Elizabeth Roberts, 
Susan Janney, Charles Jackson Allen, and Emily 
(Hooton) Allen Elfreth. Charlie has four children, 
Esther Breidenhart, Samuel Leeds Allen, Rodman 
Benson, and Charles Jackson Allen, Jr. Emily has three 
children, Elizabeth Hooton, Dorothy Allen, and Leonard 

After we had been living at Breidenhart for some 
years, father and mother gave the farm at Ivystone to 
Charlie, and at the present time it is still being farmed 
for him by Harry Shea. He is the son of Edward and 
Maggie Shea, who came to the Ivystone farm house 
when Tom Downs left us in March, 1890, Harry not 



being a year old. But all three of the Shea brothers 
had worked for us before this under Tom Downs, 
George and John and Edward having worked on the 
farm from boyhood. After Edward Shea's death, his 
two boys Harry and Charlie, with the help of their 
mother and uncle George, continued as farmers at 
Ivystone. Charlie Shea is now on another farm with his 
wife and children, while Edward Shea's widow Maggie, 
and two daughters, and Harry's family occupy Ivystone, 
and George Shea still works on the farm as he has for 
over thirty years. 

My uncle David Roberts has written the following 
recollections of my father: 

Samuel L. Allen always loved the great out-of-doors and man- 
ifested this in emphatic ways in business and in pleasure. The old 
maxim, "what is worth doing at all is worth doing well," seemed 
to fit into his every-day life, in his middle age and up to his very last 

I spent a part of the summers of 1867-68 and all of the summer of 
1869 at Ivystone and worked on the farm. I found it always 
Samuel's care and delight that rows should be straight and that 
crops should be well tilled and weeds kept in subjection. He kept 
a daily diary of his work; when different crops were planted, the 
kind and amount of fertilizers used, and just how applied; when 
and how the crop was cultivated, etc. These notes were of much 
value for reference and comparison afterwards. 

In pleasure he was early fond of horseback riding, and Dolly, the 
little strawberry roan, was his faithful riding horse for years. 
Fishing and gunning in their seasons were followed with a zest that 
always created enthusiasm in those that accompanied him. For 
twenty-five years almost without exception, the first day of the 
rabbit season was ushered in by a day's gunning with him, and he 
always seemed to get more rabbits than anyone else. When the 
day was over many times have I seen him select two small blocks 



of wood, toss them up in the air and blaze away as they fell to the 
ground, and hits were generally in evidence in both blocks of wood. 

I remember near the close of a day's hunting old Cale, the 
faithful hound, and another dog got into a fight. Samuel on the 
spur of the moment in order to separate them, pounded them with 
his unloaded gun, breaking the stock so that it was entirely sepa- 
rated from the barrel. Just then the dogs got up a rabbit and I 
think that both Joe and I fired and missed, and also the two 
men with the other dog; but Samuel jumped out of the carriage, 
stuck the broken gun together, inserted a cartridge and shot the 
rabbit ! He afterwards repaired the broken gun so neatly and nicely 
that an expert could hardly have made a better job. I have heard 
him remark in his sleighing days that he "was willing to go as long 
as he could find snow enough for one runner, or for his whip lash 
to reach," and his basket sleigh with "Dolly and Henry" was a 
turn-out worthy of its driver. 

Speaking of horseback riding, one summer he was much annoyed 
by boys stealing watermelons, and seeing the boys in the patch, he 
jumped on Dolly bareback and tore across the farm after the boys, 
scaring them so badly that the watermelons remained undisturbed 
after that. 

I remember how excited we were when my father 
returned from a day's gunning, and how anxious to see 
what he had in his pockets. Perhaps he would draw 
out a quail or a squirrel, then walk off and put his gun 
away and we would rush after him saying that couldn't 
be all, and where were the rest? Then a rabbit would 
appear or more quail, leaving the choicest till the last. 
When we were satisfied that this was really all he had 
brought we would ask if that were all he had shot, and 
he would often reply "No, but we always divide the 
game evenly and the others in the party must have an 
equal share." 

Old Cale was a very fine black and tan rabbit hound, 
and the most polite dog we have ever seen, for it was 



impossible to make him go out of the room in front of 
one, as somehow he would squeeze behind; while his 
other accomplishment was to bring my father's slippers 
to him every night. 

A few years ago I wrote down the following anecdotes 
as father told them, but he was so unassuming he would 
not write anything himself, as we so often asked. 

I once went for quail at Camden, S. C, borrowing a gun from the 
proprietor, and paid ten dollars for a guide. He was supposed to be 
a crack shot, but I don't know yet which of us got the most. I 
think I had about fourteen and I shot the first bird that rose. As I 
had not held a gun for about twenty years I thought I did very well. 

James Hunt, an Englishman and very fine sportsman, was over 
here one time, and he and I were shooting in an old meadow near 
the farm of uncle Jonathan G. Williams. James had one leg over a 
fence when a covey of quail rose. He shot two with one barrel and 
one with the other. This was most remarkable, for quail get up so 
quickly with such a whir-r-r-r that a gunner is often too startled to 
take aim. 

James Hunt kindly wrote the following for me: 

Samuel wrote and asked me to have an English gun made for 
him according to his minute instructions. I employed our best 
West of England gunsmith and in due course got notice to come 
and see the gun proved at the target. On presenting myself at the 
gun store on one of the busiest streets in Bristol I was told, "We 
must take you downstairs into our proving tunnel which runs 
under the store and finishes off out under the street." 

We were soon at it, our target being fifty yards distant; the 
patterns were quite satisfactory and I paid up and had the gun sent 
off to its destination. Samuel was pleased with it and I am glad to 
know even now it is being used to good effect on all kinds of game 
by his son. 

This reminds me that father finally gave up gunning, 
hoping that my brother would not care for it, but it was 



too late, for *'it was bred in the bone," and even the 
thirteen-year-old grandson has brought down his first 
fish hawk, carrying off a goldfish in its beak, caught in 
their little pond. 

The following very interesting argument in favor of 
the farmer was written by my father in 1865 to Frank 
Leeds at Rancocas, New Jersey : 

When talking with thee in regard to the difficulties of farming, 
in answer to my argument or statement that it required a man of 
more extensive powers to make a successful farmer than was neces- 
sary for many other businesses, because his success depended on 
such varied knowledge and accomplishments, thou said "Then to 
sell shoes would require a much smaller amount of talent?" 

Now I believe that it is not the business but the man; but still 
I think that it is more difficult to carry on a farm properly where a 
man must be able both to buy and sell well, and to understand the 
practical and theoretical workings and influences of different soils 
and crops, and be both doctor and nurse to all his crops and stock; 
be able to manage successfully his animal and human labor, and with 
all keep clear of the many traps set to catch him in artificial 
manures and innumerable other ways, traps sprung more frequently 
at the farmer than any other class, than to engineer a business 
operation of equal proportions in many of the common city busi- 
nesses, wherein the one object is selling at a profit; — fewer powers 
are necessary. 

The innumerable grades of capacity and success, with its causes, 
make comparison very difficult, but I have sometimes thought 
as above. Though not very clearly expressed perhaps it will be 

One wonders if he ever changed his mind ! 



I AM so glad to enliven my story with these incidents 
told by my sister Sue. 
Early recollections of life at Ivystone are numerous 
indeed, the outdoor portions of it at all seasons of the 
year perhaps being the most vivid. Though father left 
home early, and was away all day, he always kept in 
touch with our interests, or made his ours, teaching us 
in such unusual ways we did not realize we were learn- 
ing. His walks over the lawn and farm were our great 
delight, for we always learned something new about the 
trees or flowers or vegetables. 

The early morning field experiments with a new 
potato digger on a neighboring farm were eventful 
times for me. After an early breakfast we would start 
out in the j agger wagon, with the plow rattling behind 
us, until we reached our destination. I could usually 
enjoy a book, while waiting, or the berries in an adjoin- 
ing blackberry patch, and remember stealing along the 
rows to discover the nests of song sparrows, or others 
nesting near the ground. After the trial the digger- 
tines were frequently taken to the city to be adapted 
for the conditions found; and father seldom failed to 
explain to me what he hoped the machine would do or 
what it had done in a different soil in a previous trial. 

Indeed, the good times out-of-doors were encouraged 
by both our parents, as mother did not like us to come 



in to "work" after a long day at school, so what study- 
ing we did at home was usually after supper. As we 
were so far from Moorestown, it meant a good deal to 
take and bring us three and a half miles each way, 
and for a time father took the train at Moorestown, and 
the man left me at school. But before long I took my 
younger brother Charlie and sister Emily, driving 
Gypsy — Gypsy, the horse with which I grew. up, and 
who taught me most that I know about horses. Charlie 
rode his bicycle, too, part of the time, and as we grew 
older I sometimes had to give up the reins to the others 
to drive part way. This was a great trial, for I was very 
jealous of Gypsy, and considered her' "mine" quite 

From a very small child horses were my chief admira- 
tion, and I spent a good deal of time in watching the 
farm teams, or anything done at the stable. The bri- 
dling of Kit, one of the mules, who was so extremely 
sensitive about having her ears handled that a twitch 
always had to be used to hold her head down, was a 
never-ending source of excitement; or when one of the 
horses slipped away from the man, or got loose from the 
stable, we children were very much thrilled until the 
animal was caught. Nellie is the first driving horse I 
remember, but she was supposed to be too cross for 
children to go near. I disproved that — by being found 
in the food-box with her one day. I was also too little 
to have anything to do with Dolly, though she lived to 
be so old, and I used to watch Lillie riding her with 
much envy. 

Daisy and Gypsy were our first "pair" of driving 
horses, and a splendid pair they were. Daisy was too 



full of life for a small child to handle, and Gypsy, who 
was a little older, I liked better, allowing Lillie to claim 
Daisy. She was a brilliant bloodbay with glossy coat 
and arching neck, and it was a year before she would 
walk in harness, a dainty slow trot being all she would 
do. Gypsy was a dark mahogany and had plenty of 
spirit, too, but took life a little more seriously. 

Neighbors thought father was risking a good deal 
when he allowed so small a child to drive her alone from 
Riverton. But he knew the horse and I had had his 
training ever since I was old enough to hold the end of 
the reins (while he drove), and I had learned to harness 
as soon as I could manage it. Then, too, we always 
started at a given moment, having an exact number of 
minutes before the train left, so that the horse had no 
chance to be lazy in the two and a half miles. Gypsy 
was one who always enjoyed the homeward trip, and it 
was this characteristic which made our ride appear 
uncertain to others. She knew we had to stop at the 
Post Office, and did so; but on the straight road, while 
she turned out for necessary passing, I could not stop 
her flight unless she chose. 

In those days, of course, there were no trolleys nor au- 
tomobiles to frighten a young horse, and the double rail- 
road tracks at Riverton with the station on the far side 
was the greatest hazard. I well remember the morning 
father told me I must never cross a double track 
immediately after a train, as it was quite possible a 
train might be on the other track. So I patiently 
waited almost half an hour, before venturing across. 
There was no flagman, either, and finally it dawned on 
me what he had meant. The danger of the double track 



has always remained with me, and it applies even more 
truly in this day of automobiles. 

This, of course, only refers to my earliest driving, for 
Gypsy knew me very well, always expected her sugar 
lump, and did her best for me, although in her wise old 
age she had a number of little tricks she tried occa- 
sionally with me, but was usually more successful with 
the other children, or with strangers. One of these was 
pretending she was very weary, which ruse was most 
successfully carried out on one of our farmer's men, who 
borrowed her to go to a funeral. I, too, tried to beg off 
for her, and made the loan reluctantly. George Shea 
was a tender-hearted man, and Gypsy knew it was 
more than was usually asked of her. She appeared 
fagged out, wanted to turn in at any opportunity, or 
to stop when there was the least excuse for it. Gentle 
urgings were not sufficient to stir her enthusiasm, and 
George wondered "why Mr. Allen kept such a slow old 
horse." On the return, however, everything was 
changed, and Gypsy brought him flying home. She 
had completely deceived him as to her ability, and 
expressed her feelings clearly. 

She was a good walk, trot, and canter saddle-horse, as 
she had been well trained, and had few dangerous habits 
for a child, except gay spirits, which made her shying 
one of quickened gait, to which I became accustomed. 
In her old age she frequently refused to go further than 
a certain distance, bringing us home when she had 
reached her limit of patience. I learned how to over- 
come this trait, so that she seldom made a spectacle of 
us more than once. She had been taught to follow, or 
to back indefinitely with a signal of the whip. I utilized 



this latter accomplishment to my advantage one day 
at Riverton, when she did not wish to go further and 
I did. As she would kick and turn, when I used the 
whip for her to go forward, I gave her the backing 
signal, and kept her at it until she found it was less 
tiresome to go more naturally where I chose. After this 
prolonged lesson she seldom refused me, or a short 
repetition reminded her to go on cheerfully. 

These little traits increased with age, until she became 
what one might call "cranky," or "very wise." She 
disliked having the quilers fastened, and when a man 
did it was very apt to kick, but would look around 
cheerfully while I did it. The tightening of the saddle- 
girths greatly annoyed her, and she invariably made it 
difficult by swelling out and holding her breath. After 
several years of taking us to school she became more 
and more disgruntled with waiting for us all day in the 
school shed, and began to kick and squeal to show her 
disapproval. This became a confirmed habit, difficult 
to break, and of immense amusement to all the scholars, 
when she would squeal ten or twenty times during an 
interval. It meant little study for some of us, and as 
she became excited and kicked higher, she occasionally 
got one leg over the shaft, which meant a hurried exit 
for me and the older boys, and occasionally the teacher! 

Consequently, father set to work to invent a way to 
control her, something that I could carry out on arrival. 
When she was harnessed at home the man put on a 
kicking-strap to keep her from getting over the shaft; 
also he buckled two wide straps, with a large ring, 
around her fetlocks. In the carriage I carried a wide 
leather nose strap, which buckled, and two pieces of 



wood about a foot and a half long, four inches wide, and 
two inches thick, with a chain and snap about a foot 
long attached to the center of the block. With the nose 
band muffling her voice and the blocks chained to her 
fetlocks she could do no damage even to herself, as the 
blocks stung too much; but we never succeeded entirely 
in breaking her. We were asked not to bring her to the 
school shed, as it was too disturbing, so for awhile we 
took her to Grandfather Roberts's stable, which gave 
Gypsy the rest and change she had been demanding. 
The following year I went to Westtown Boarding School 
and as neither Charlie nor Emily were so fond of driving 
as I had been, Gypsy spent the day in the livery stable, 
where she could express her feelings without undue 
annoyance to others. 

Father was such an excellent horseman, and had 
ridden so much as a young man, it is rather curious I 
have comparatively few recollections of his riding with 
us; for he never took up horseback riding as a relaxa- 
tion, as Alexander Wood did, for instance. I think it 
was because he was too busy, and the safety bicycle 
superseded the horse for both business and pleasure, 
as it obviated the necessity of being waited upon to 
and from the station. We sometimes rode to the station 
with father and had good coasting tests. I remember 
riding his wheel home from Riverton once, when I could 
only touch the pedals at the highest point. 

Bicycle trips were a great pleasure, one through the 
Berkshires being our longest one with father. My 
mother and brother and sisters, as well as Aunt Bessie 
and one of her sons, were also in the party. In those 
early bicycling days there was often little other con- 



versation at the table, father entering into our discus- 
sions of the merits of the different wheels with the 
greatest zest. He rode a Columbia, mother had a 
Sternes, which my sisters also rode, Charlie had had a 
number, and my final one was a Warwick, chosen by 
father because of its hygienic cushion seat, and the 
patent spring in the saddle-post making it comfortable 
at all times. However, both Emily and I learned to 
ride on my brother's first "safety." It was one of the 
earliest made with wheels of the same size, and did not 
even have a cushion tire. The drop-frame had not yet 
been made for women. Our dresses were a decided 
handicap, so we dressed in Charlie's clothes till we 
learned to balance. 

In England in 1892 I had several delightful rides with 
father, though ladies' wheels were still few, and both in 
London and Paris a girl on a wheel was an unusual 
sight and he liked to tell of the Paris "cabby" who dropped 
his reins in astonishment when I circled around a group 
of frightened women instead of dismounting, when 
pedestrians were held up in the centre of the street for 
traffic. I think it was the following year there was such 
a bicycle craze, when the women of Paris all rode men's 
wheels in bloomers. 

It was this very real and special interest father took 
in all our joys and sorrows from our earliest recollection 
through all the years, that made him the wonderful 
companion and ideal friend that he always was to each 
of us — whether Emily's cats, or chickens, or dolls; or 
Charlie's collection of stamps, or his kites, or boats; or 
our bird's-egg or butterfly collection, or the horses; or 
Lillie's older occupations and more literary leanings. 



In more grown-up years this sympathy and enthusiasm 
extended to our older hobbies, or to our hats and 

No matter how extraordinary our whims appeared 
to others, we were sure of an all-round judgment from 
him, with a desire to see it from our viewpoint rather 
than his. It was as if he waited for us to show in which 
direction our wishes lay, and then he would direct and 
influence them in a much larger way than we had 
thought of attempting, giving us the opportunity and 
encouragement needed to make the thing worth while. 
If his approval were lacking the greatest pleasure was 
gone, and the effort languished. 

There are countless Ivystone memories, some of 
which are similar, and others very different from the 
occupations of the children of today. Taking bitter 
medicine, or quinine pills, was dreaded then as now; 
but a much desired peppermint made the former less 
disagreeable; and father's ingenious "pill-shooter"" 
made the latter a mysterious play. We three would be 
lined up against the wall, and he would shoot the pills 
down our throats with the little gun (a split stick with a 
pill in the cleft), so it sped down "the red lane" from a 
slight pressure against the tongue, and so quickly we 
had not time to taste the bitter coating. He used to 
make us willow whistles, and apple darts from the 
apple-tree suckers, pointing one end of the stick, put- 
ting a green apple on this point, and then throwing the 
apple much further than we could throw by hand. We 
also dug weeds with the asparagus knives, which were 
excellent tools for getting dandelion roots. Several 
cents a hundred was fine pay, though we received less 



for plantains and ordinary weeds, but the same as the 
regular pickers did for berries. We had one novel way 
of earning money in the house, which was by catching 
flies with a swift stroke of the hand (no swatter), in 
any room except the kitchen, where they were too 
abundant. Those captured were a cent a dozen. 
Father was expert at catching the unwary and annoying 
fly, and I became so, and was nicknamed "the Great 
American Fly -catcher." However, there were really 
very few flies to be found in our living rooms, for mother 
was an excellent housekeeper. Father made "fly 
sweepers," and every First-day morning he would help 
drive them out of the dining-room and front rooms. 
These were long pieces of brown paper cut into strips, 
and fastened in a flowing brush to a broom-handle. 
With one of these in each hand, and two or more people 
wielding them, the flies were scientifically driven out. 

The mosquito killer, too, interested me. Father made 
this, attaching a flat board about a foot square to the 
top of a broom-handle. Mother covered this with 
several thicknesses of canton flannel and at night, after 
we were in bed, he would moisten this, and hunt the 
mosquitoes on the walls or ceiling. The dampened 
cloth disabled them, without staining the paper. I 
remember hearing the thud as father used it the last 
thing before he and mother retired. 

The destruction of the English sparrows, which had 
become such a pest in our splendid English ivy that 
grew all over the end of the house, became a necessity. 
In addition to destroying their nests and young, reached 
by means of a long ladder, father had a huge net made, 
with a very long handle, which was used after the birds 



had gone to bed at night, catching them as they flew 
frightened from their nests, and we were allowed to 
take part in the destruction, climbing the ladder 
and pulling out the large feathered nests and eggs. 
Emily, on one occasion, used the eggs, to make 
"cake" for her dolls. The distinction between these 
birds, as pests, and the song birds we desired to have, 
was very clearly made, and we were never allowed to 
destroy other nests; and in making our collection of 
birds' eggs were only allowed to take out one of a kind, 
with a spoon which he had run into the earth, so that 
the bird would not desert her nest. I do not know what 
method is followed now. 

While at Westtown I became interested in riding 
astride instead of side-saddle, the approved method of 
riding for women in the East for many generations. It 
was father who upheld me in my advanced ideas, as he 
thought it more comfortable for horse and rider, and 
safer for me. In the beginning I was loaned a regular 
cowboy's saddle, and later Horace Stokes bought me 
a cross saddle in Durango, Colorado. 

This might have been all right, but Bey Wilton was 
so spirited, and the shape of the saddle such it threw 
me too far forward, and I could not keep an erect seat. 
Father sent me to a riding school in Philadelphia, the 
only one I knew of at the time. Finding I was fearless, 
the instructor left me largely to my own devices, though 
he gave me his best horses, which increased my con- 
fidence, without correcting my bad seat. I was given the 
customary Englishman's flat saddle to ride, as the 
western one was considered entirely the wrong thing. 
I was greatly disappointed in these lessons, for they 



failed to give me what I sought, having neither theory 
nor scientific practice. 

Happily I discovered another riding school, where 
practice and theory were thoroughly combined, and the 
riding hour consisted of hard work. Bareback riding 
or with a blanket was constantly practiced, not as an 
accomplishment, but as a necessity for safety, and to 
obtain an easy and correct seat; also riding without 
reins, for the teacher had the horse on a long rope, 
revolving around him in circles at whatever gait or 
speed he wished me to attempt. 

Bey Wilton was also under this man's care for a 
continuance of his "high school" accomplishments, for 
he had been taught far more than the average saddle 
horse, in addition to having all the Kentucky gaits. In 
addition to traversing either way, at trot or canter, he 
would also march, or kneel for me. Father took great 
pride in our final accomplishments, and also a few years 
later in Emily and her black saddler from North 
Carolina. Hordy was also a beautiful horse and Emily 
a natural-born rider, far excelling me, as I had to work 
much harder for my results than she did. 

Possibly in looking back over all our numerous horses 
and their performances of good or evil, the laurel 
wreath should go to Lillie's Benito. Though he did not 
have the many gaits of either Hordy or Bey Wilton, he 
was a beautiful black with white star, magnificent in 
carriage, conformation, and spirit, equaled by few horses 
anywhere under the saddle or to the carriage. As a 
much younger child I had a number of fine side-saddle 
rides on him, and one glorious runaway, which fright- 
ened others, as I could not control him, and it looked 



as if I would be thrown in turning the Westfield corner. 
A horse running for the love of it and not blindly from 
fright, even though one may not be able to stop him, 
I believe seldom ends in catastrophe, if the road is clear. 
Bey Wilton loved to run, and was swifter than any 
horses I raced with. Once he ran away from the friend 
with me, starting at Chestnut street, and galloping the 
length of the main street before I could stop him. 
There were no trolley tracks then, and fortunately the 
street was clear, as it was early after supper and the 
market wagons had not started. My friend held his 
horse back at first, thinking I could stop Bey Wilton 
sooner, but he saw his mistake and then found he 
could not catch us. I heard some women next day at 
the station saying they "thought it was scandalous to 
ride like that, right down the main street! It ought 
not to be allowed!" — with which remarks I silently 
agreed; they had no idea I was the one who had 
shocked them so, nor that it was a runaway. 

Contriving a convenient and attractive costume for 
the cross saddle was largely solved by the suggestions 
of Mrs. A. C. Dames, of Oakland, California, who 
wrote an article on the subject in one of the magazines, 
showing a photograph of her Dames Equestrian Coat. 
This was a beautiful compromise between the very long 
skirt habit of Lillie's youth and the approved knicker- 
bockers worn today by the up-to-date rider of our 
vicinity. After an interesting correspondence we 
evolved an attractive dark blue corduroy divided cos- 
tume, with which the most critical could find no fault. 
I think it is safe to say I was almost the pioneer girl 
to ride astride — certainly the first in Moorestown; but 



it was not many years before it was accepted without 
comment as the usual thing. 

This record would be very incomplete without 
mentioning our dog companions which grew up with 
us, and filled a large place in our pastimes. After Cale, 
the hound, whom I scarcely remember, Shep came to 
us, having followed the team home from Philadelphia. 
We never found his owner, and it would have been a 
great trial to have had to give him up. He was a 
Newfoundland retriever, with silky black curly hair, 
about the size of a collie, and a very wonderful dog, 
and an ideal companion for little children. I remember 
rather shocking our company one night by kissing him 
a good-night first, and was sent away in disgrace to 
wash my face and hands before being polite to the 
others. Retrieving a corn cob or stick, or other article, 
was one of his delights, and father loved to test his 
remarkable ability in finding hidden objects. Some- 
times he would make believe to throw it in one direction, 
while quickly throwing it behind him; but no matter 
what the ruse, Shep invariably hunted till he had found 
it, even though it took a long time. I have never known 
any other dog to show such persistence as he did in 
this particular. He lived to a ripe old age, and we all 
mourned his loss. We cut off some of his curls, which 
I have still. On each of Emily's, wrapped in paper, she 
wrote the part of the body — his back, or breast, or 
neck — from which she had cut them, and always added, 
"he died after dinner." Shep was buried under one of 
the apple trees with childish honors, and his grave was 
marked for many years by the grassy mound which 
covered him. 




Chinquapin was a beautiful long-haired black dog, 
whose mother was a thoroughbred Irish setter. Father 
named him for a young chinquapin tree which we were 
much interested in, but we usually called him Chinque. 
He had the wild, rather difficult nature of the setter, 
and it was hard to control his propensity to roam. He 
loved to follow the truck wagons to the Philadelphia 
market, and gave the men considerable trouble to keep 
him with them. One time he slipped oft' the ferry boat 
ahead of the team and was lost in the crowd, and we 
never saw him again. 

Surely an account of our childhood days at Ivystone 
would be incomplete without telling of the many happy 
hours we children spent at Harmony Hall, and the 
lifelong friendship of father and mother with Alexander 
C. and Mary Emma S. Wood, our nearest friends, a 
half-mile away from our farm. Here we all delighted to 
go, and all found something to their liking. Anna's 
large doll house, with a real stove and dishes big enough 
for us to use, gave unique possibilities we did not have, 
and was a great source of pleasure, especially to Emily. 

While Charlie and Alick and Emily found many 
outdoor pleasures at the creek I usually spent the hours 
browsing in the library, where bookcases of strange 
books held me oblivious to all else — for fairy stories 
were not among the Ivystone books, and this was my 
introduction to fairyland and fiction. Lillie and Anna 
rode horseback together, and once in awhile I went 
with them. I remember frightening Mary Emma Wood 
very much when quite small, and riding one of the 
horses I seldom rode; he raced into their lawn and 
back to the stable around the curving drive. 



MY mother continues : 
As Samuel drove me home after "passing meeting," 
in Ninth Month, 1866, he told me he had invented 
a fertilizer drill for spreading guano. This he named the "Planet 
Drill," from its resemblance to the planet Saturn and its rings, 
while the seed drill that immediately followed was called " Planet 
Jr." These were the first of the "Planet Jr. family," and for 
over fifty years it seemed as if he worked almost day and night, 
for years making a practice of sitting alone on the train to think 

"The heights by great men reached and kept. 
Were not attained by sudden flight, 
But they while their companions slept 
Were toiling upward through the night." 

Many a morning he told me he had solved a difficult problem 
in the wakeful hours, as he could think more clearly then. Evenings 
were given up to study and drafting, with such fever of intensity 
that even our small daughter caught the spirit, often saying, 
"Don't 'sturb me, Ma; I'm goin' to think." 

Although he never had a drawing lesson of any kind, he taught 
himself by practice and study what was necessary for his use in 
invention, and for many years he made all the drawings and plans 
required for manufacturing. I do not remember that he ever 
complained of the difficulties he had encountered from lack of 
training, but he often spoke with surprised wonder of what he 
had accomplished, as if he scarcely understood how he had been 
able to achieve so much. 

Cousin George Allen said to me: 

When Samuel had made his first dozen seed drills with wooden 
wheels and I had agreed to take one I drove over from Marple, 



Pennsylvania, for it. The drill was a good one and worked all 
right, and I never had one that sowed seeds any better. When the 
new building was opened at the plant in 1913 I was unable to be 
present and this disappointment was second only to the fact that 
I could not have shown the original drill. Samuel told me that 
he would have given almost anything to have had it as a museum 

Charles Parry closed his letter to me thus: 

Our intercourse during the few years Samuel L. Allen farmed 
adjoining us was always pleasant and agreeable, and I took a 
deep interest in the improvements he was constantly making in 
methods and machinery to make farming easier and more profit- 
able. But he soon discovered that his sphere of action was more 
properly making machinery for others to use, rather than using it 
himself. His memory as a desirable neighbor, as a just and upright 
man, will always be cherished by those who were acquainted with 
him. He was one who has left the world better for having lived in it. 

My father always objected to saving anything he did 
not know he had a use for, while mother thought every- 
thing "might be useful some time." Indeed with her 
famous "black bag" she seemed able to supply everyone 
with anything needed. But I found one thin packet 
of letters in his desk, including, with a few per- 
sonal ones, the first business letters of his career, 
and in reading them one easily pictures the alternate 
pleasure and disappointment they brought in those 
first days of effort, and the sentiment that made him 
keep them. One from Grandfather Allen in 1870 speaks 
of "the large Drill having taken the first premium," 
etc., and secured a "special notice and recommenda- 
tion" at Raleigh, N. C, where we have a nice trade 
today; but quite another type from Jamaica, L. I., 
says, "The Planet Drill remains unsold and untried!" 



However, our goods are largely used there today, 
especially around Mineola, L. I. 

(S. L. A. to my mother, S. H. A., at Chalfonte) : 


* * * On my return I found A. W. Clement had sold four 
drills; no further prospect. * * * I went to Medford, arriving 
in good time, though the weather was very warm. Took two drills, 
and Joseph Evans and Joshua Wills joined teams, taking us all up. 
We had a tiresome, interesting day. Saw the steamplow, cultivator 
and harrow, and the horse-power drill, with some twenty to thirty 
hands at work planting, etc. We succeeded in interesting the heads 
in the "Planet," and left the two there, with a prospect of sending 
more. They need at least six. We made a long day of it, and I did 
not reach home till about 11 P. M. * * * 

Have just walked around the yard. The scarlet sage and ver- 
benas and ageratum are in bloom a little, and our own seedlings 
coming out. The corn has nearly doubled in three days; other 
crops are looking well and we hope to get on bravely now; to plow 
blackberries tomorrow, and mow near the middle of the week; 
also to get out cabbages, etc., in time. 

* * * The weather being so hot and wet, it is rotting rapidly 
all the ripening fruit, and in order to save any it will be necessary 
to pick tomorrow; I will have all currants picked and made into 
jelly; I expect Lizzie knows how to cover the jars; and will have 
some cherries preserved and pickled, I guess, according to the best 
recipes. Gooseberries and raspberries can wait. 

Don't be uneasy as it will be well done, if possible for greenhorns, 
and beside I expect there is a large store of white currant jelly, 
and plenty of cherries from last year and year before, but I intend, 
having made it, to eat some of it before thee comes home !* I found 
quite a row of raspberry drink bottles, etc. Tapped one of them; 
I guess we won't have to make any as it lasts so well. I don't think 
it will be worth while for thee to come home anyhow before next 

*Notb. — Mother always insisted on our using the oldest first! 



week, and hope thee may be really benefited. With much love 
and kisses for Lily, and thyself too if thee can manage it, I remain 
thy attached husband, 



Picked today fourteen tomatoes and one hundred and eleven 
quarts of berries, former worth $1.50 to $2. There is sugar corn 
in market at $1.50. Having time to spare today I looked around 
and chose a carriage for Lily, a nice one I think. 

Richmond, Va., ll-2-'69. 
My dear S.: Ford's Hotel, 5 :45 P. M. 

Came here immediately, and got an excellent room with three 
beds, with a new found friend in each of two of them, agreeable 
men; went to bed and slept till 8:30. On the way down mailed a 
letter to have circulars printed to go to Macon for the drill already 
there; then on to Baltimore, where we had but eight minutes, 
train being slow and behind time; then came on rapidly to Wash- 
ington, where tho' we had one hour and forty minutes, we hurried 
across to the Potomac, and our boat, only catching a glimpse of 
the Capitol building — it was my plan to use that hour in running 
about, but with an umbrella I borrowed, and six hundred circulars 
added, and it coming on dusk, and my friend from Chester County 
(a threshing machine man) all the time thinking it better to go 
straight on, I submitted. 

We took supper on board the boat, about 7:30 P. M. my friend 
and self being sandwiched between three gamblers and pickpockets 
and one honest man. There seemed no help for it; the other tables 
had a similar supply. Had a fair supper, and then finding a lounge 
rested as well as I could without sleep till we struck Acquia creek. 
Then being again in the cars were packed tightly enough, and 
among the lightfingered gentry almost thro' necessity; altho' I 
determined not to sit by them. 

The man I did choose proved one of their victims, his first 
gambling on card tricks costing him twenty-five dollars; on getting 
into the omnibus to come here my Chester County friend informed 



me he had no pocketbook! About twelve dollars gone. I was 
rather surprised that I should be the least green of the three, as a 
younger man and no traveler, but so it seems, having got along 
safely yet. Of course I have learned a lesson. There was an 
unusual gang, not less than 8, probably double that number. 

The Fair Grounds are about two miles out, and are very fine, 
and well fitted up. Steam cars for ten cents, right to the gate. A 
fair number seem interested in the drill, and I think there will be 
no difficulty in taking the premium. Also that it will pay me for 
coming here. * * * Intend tomorrow morning to tack 
together two sheets of pasteboard back to back, and paint myself 
a sign, "Norfolk men and truckers, look at the pea and guano 
drill," etc., to erect near my stand. Have not seen much of the 
city. My friend waits for me to go to supper; don't know his name. 

They have just ushered us into a new dining-room, and every- 
thing is so nice that I want to compliment the proprietor. I guess 
we are well fixed for tonight. My friend of the gone twenty-five 
dollars sits near. S. E. Todd of New York Farmers' Club is here. 
I want to talk with him tomorrow; he is a reporter. I intend 
pushing in more, finding who is who and making myself known as 
a horticulturist, etc. Have written in haste but tell the more I hope. 

With much love and kisses and words for Lily. 

(S. L. A. at Richmond, Va., to S. H. A.) ll-3-'69. 

I was sorry not to be able to vote, but have concluded this the 
right place for me. Have seen a great deal and learned a great 
deal, and met with a fair amount of success. There have been 
indirectly ordered three or four drills, and men from Norfolk 
encourage me to go there, and promise to help me out, furnishing 
team, and going around with me, etc. I also heard today that 
1st premium at Baltimore had been awarded me, and there is 
little doubt I will receive one here, tho' things are badly arranged 
and managed. Many drunkards and thieves. 

Did not sleep very well last night; changed us into a basement 
room and it proved damp, and my Chester County man a horrible 
snorer; he says when fully under way he can shake any ordinary 
frame house! Hope for better things tonight. It pays much best 



to be here, as I caught one customer last night. I wish to try and 
see some agricultural men at Washington on my return, and also 
to spend several hours in the Patent Office. * * * Had a 
first-rate room and good rest last night. * * * 

Thomas Downs continues: 

Mr. Allen soon began to manufacture his own seed drills in a 
shop eighteen by twenty-four feet, that we built next to the 
carriage-house at Ivystone. He taught me how to temper the 
steels for the drills, and an Englishman had taught him. 

I was tempering steels one day, and George Shea blew the fish- 
oil furnace. We had a potato drag in the oil to stir it up, and we 
were doing so good when suddenly the oil flamed up and in an 
instant the oil-spattered boards of the side of the shop were 
blazing to the roof. I said to myself, "This means a new shop, 
and all the tools in it." I had only half a bucket of water, but I 
grabbed that and with one sweep threw it up the blazing board 
wall. An old gunny sack was lying on the floor, and the water fell 
down on that, and I grabbed it and beat the fire with the bag, 
and was mercifully able to put it out — or all the out-buildings 
would have gone. 

I had no heart to work after that, and went out and got some 
fresh air. When Mr. Allen came home he said, "Well, how did 
you get along today?" "Fine!" I said; and then I showed him 
the boards charred three feet wide, from the top of the oil tank 
and about eight feet up. 

Another day we were tempering steel, when the man came 
running, yelling that "the hotbeds were on fire!" These beds 
were placed adjoining the barnyard, and the eggplants and 
tomatoes in them were two or three inches high. They were in a 
double hotbed that had a furnace at one end, and a large heating 
pipe that ran underneath one side and back the other. I grabbed 
a bucket, and ran and drew the fire from the furnace, and then 
we bailed water from a well in the middle of the beds there, and 
Mrs. Allen and the cook carried the buckets. I never thought 
Mrs. Allen could handle a bucket so well, but she did, just as good 
as a man. It takes a good deal of skill to bail water with a bucket 



on a rope fifteen feet long, but one of the men had been a boat- 
hand, and he knew just how to drop it upside down, and when it 
turns over it fills, is drawn quickly up, and those waiting carried 
the buckets.* In half an hour it was all over and the plants were 
all spoiled: but the hotbeds and barn were saved. After this 
experience Mr. Allen had buckets filled with water placed all 
around in his city factory. 

It would be impossible for me to give any adequate 
account of the business side of my father's life without 
the help of some of the men who were closely associated 
with him for so many years, and they have written for 
me some of their experiences and impressions, and I am 
grateful indeed. 

The firm of S. L. Allen & Company consisted for 
some ten years of my father, with his father John C. 
Allen as the "company"; but Ninth month first, 1881, 
two members were added to the firm — Edward B. 
Richie, who had married my mother's only sister — 
Elizabeth H. Roberts, and their youngest brother, 
William Hooton Roberts. 

Edward B. Richie had charge of some buying and 
the bookkeeping department, and was also very active 
in the shipping department, actually helping and work- 
ing side by side with the men whenever he thought 
there was need. The sending of the first dozen machines 
to Europe was a great event, and the men worked until 
nine o'clock that night, Walter Grieves told me, going 
out after extra boxes in which to crate the smaller ones. 

"Uncle Ned," as we loved to call him, was not robust, 
and his life ended, it seemed, at high noon, so his widow 

*Note. — My mother had been making a sponge cake, but she gave the bowl to 
the maid, telling her "not to stop beating!" while she and the cook seized buckets, 
and hurried to the rescue. 



as silent partner has continued to represent him, while 
his two eldest sons have always been in the business. 
After his death, my father's only brother, John C. 
Allen, Jr., took charge of the accounting, and was the 
valued head of this department until within a few years 
of his death in 1913. He had a very keen sense of 
humor, and was always ready with an appropriate joke 
or story, while his admiration for father was deep and 
sincere. I found a scrap of paper signed with my 
father's "A" dated 1906, and the sentence, "John says 
I have the broadest grasp of business and other subjects 
of any man he ever saw." 

Father told me some years ago that the men at 
A. J. Drexel & Company were discussing who was the 
most popular man who came into their bank, and the 
vote was given to Uncle John. 

Daniel De Cou married my father's sister, Ruthanna 
Leeds Allen, and after a number of years began to sell 
"Planet Jr." machines with striking success. Although 
he traveled extensively in Europe and elsewhere for 
many years, he thought "Moorestown the most beauti- 
ful place of all, and the Australians the finest people in 
the world." He died in 1898. 

My beloved uncle, William H. Roberts, is now the 
honored president of S. L. Allen & Co., Inc., after 
thirty-nine active years in the business. He has always 
been associated with the shop and the production end, 
and has worked so much with the men and been so 
interested in their welfare he has greatly endeared him- 
self to them. When he went to Europe a few years 
ago I was told, "the plant was practically closed for a 
half hour, because every last man in the place was 



crazy to see him go by on the train, and seventy-five 
or eighty per cent, wanted to shake hands with him on 
his return." He has written for me "Some Early 
Recollections of the Manufacturing Career of Samuel 
L. Allen," and I have taken the liberty of dividing it 
as also other papers, that the various incidents may 
appear chronologically and in appropriate surroundings. 
A portion follows here. 

One cold February afternoon in 1881, I visited the scene of a 
large fire which had happened the night before in Carter's Alley, 
a small street between Chestnut, Walnut, 2d and 3d Streets. 
With temperature well below freezing, it had been a hard struggle 
for the firemen, and little was left of the burned buildings but ice- 
coated, crumbling walls, bent and twisted steam pipes, and shaft- 
ing, pulleys and machinery more or less buried in bricks and ice. 
This machinery had recently been installed in the basement of the 
building and constituted the little factory which Samuel L. Allen 
had established for the manufacture of his "Planet Jr." farm and 
garden tools. The little plant had only been running a few weeks 
when along came the fire. 

Previous to this the steel parts for the smaller tools, such as 
seeders and wheel hoes, had been made in the little shop on the 
farm at Ivystone, while the larger horse-drawn implements had 
been made by the Bateman Brothers at Grenloch, N. J. 

As one looked down into this basement on the wreck and ruin 
caused by the fire he could but think, "Well, that is the end of 
that enterprise." Not so, however, thought Samuel L. Allen. 
With his indomitable energy as always displayed in any emer- 
gency, and hardly before the firemen had left, men were at work 
among the ruins, with the result that in a couple of days much of 
the machinery was reclaimed and ready to be put to work again. 
But where should he go? That was the serious problem. Two 
buildings recently vacated as a soap factory by Joseph S. and 
Thomas Elkinton were offered. This property was located near 
2d and Catherine streets, Philadelphia, and seemed too large and 



too far away. After a short but serious consideration, however, he 
decided to rent these buildings. This proved to be a fairly satis- 
factory home for the "Planet Jr." business from the winter of 
1881 till the summer of 1889. 

I well remember that cold winter night, father looked 
so tired and discouraged when he came from town, we 
all crowded around to ask what had happened. He 
told us that his new factory had been burned out that 
morning and everything seemed ruined. He had seen 
the fire in crossing the river and thought it must be his 
place! The rest of the winter he worked desperately 
to get things started again, only coming home twice a 
week and having day and night gangs. I used to drive 
him to the 6 :20 A. M. train at Lenola, being almost a 
mile nearer, with three minutes more time than if we 
went to Moorestown, and these were such pleasant 
occasions for me from the many points of interest we 
discussed. The fine maple at the station had just been 
planted, and he used to stop the carriage so that its 
tiny shadow just protected our faces. 

After the rush in 1881 he made shorter hours, feeling 
it was right to arrange his work so that this was possible, 
and it was a wonderful relief to cut off the last half -hour 
of the day. 

My cousin Charles Williams wrote mother after 
father's death: 

* * * Yes, thy dear husband was an example of hard working 
■perseverance and determination to do whatever he did in the best 
manner. No mediocre achievement would do for him. "Excelsior!" 
was his motto and he practised it. These high points should be 
emphasized and impressed on his children and grandchildren. He 
was a progressive and excellent farmer and I have never heard of 
his acre of eggplants, over $900.00, being equaled. 



He showed people how to keep ice cheaply and well by his 
little " crib " in the backyard. His first drills and other agricultural 
implements were assembled in your old carriage-house shop and 
were tried out on his own and our farms as well as others. His 
diggers were highly valued by many and the coasters are too well 
known for comment. 

I well remember his coming to our home to tea to meet Cousin 
Samuel Emlen, who was in the firm of Graham, Emlen & Passmore, 
who were then in the height of success from the manufacture of 
the "Philadelphia Lawn Mower." I well remember his remark 
after the interview. He said: "The secret of their success is that 
every person with a little grass plat in the backyard needs a lawn 
mower, but they don't need a seed drill! " But he was able to find 
out and see what people did need and then provide it, and prove 
their need and make it a little better than the other fellow, and 
thus insure successful and continuous sales in spite of close and 
cheap competition. 



EXTRACTS follow from my father's letters to me 
at Westtown Boarding School from 1882 to 1887. 
The advice as to study and play, and English 
composition, is so delightfully and tactfully given: 

Dear Daughter Lillie: — 1882. 

We were disappointed last evening not to receive thy usual 
long Seventh day letter, especially as we thought there would be so 
much to tell, about beds and bedfellows, closets, seats, classes, new 
and old scholars, sleds, tennis, spring dress of the grounds, im- 
provements, etc., but we suppose that the very fact of themes being 
numerous made it difficult to find time to describe them, so we will 
await patiently, as we must, for the more convenient season. 


We are very anxious thee should not have too much to do, and 
far prefer thy health shall be the first consideration rather than 
learning. It may be, however, that thee might improve upon thy 
plans for studying, tho' I am not sure of it. I think it would be an 
excellent plan not to leave studying thy lessons till it is almost too 
late to get them without hurry. If thee can take them in good 
time thy work will count much faster. 

It is also a good plan to get the hardest lesson first, and on the 
same principle to get the lessons first and then have the play, tho' 
that is pretty difficult practice. My experience is, that promptness 
in going at a thing is of remarkable importance. The mind seems to 
be so constituted that a task which seems distasteful or difficult is 
almost certain to be put off to a time when one hopes to feel more 
like it, but the mind, instead of becoming more willing to under- 
take, actually grows less so. 



But on the other hand, happily, when a thing is commenced 
promptly, the mind becomes aroused, interested and determined 
to accomplish more than the original task, so that he who puts off 
duties becomes by actual downward growth incapable of accom- 
plishing valuable results that were originally quite within his reach; 
while he who promptly takes in hand the duty of the moment as 
soon as it appears, makes a noble growth in capacity, accomplish- 
ing a vast amount of work with comparative ease, especially when 
promptness is joined to system. 

The latter could be made useful in the study of lessons by divid- 
ing the out-of-school hours into study and play hours, and keeping 
as near them as each day's varying duties and employments make 
possible. I will enclose a few lines that I clipped some years ago 
from a paper, and which seem to embody the idea of promptness 
as I have tried to explain it, very prettily and clearly : 

Lose this day loitering, 'twill be the same story 
Tomorrow, and the next more dilatory; 
The indecision brings its own delays, 
And days are lost lamenting o'er lost days. 
Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute 
What you can do or think you can, begin it! 
Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it! 
Only engage and then the mind grows heated; 
Begin it and the work will be completed. 

Do try to make a creditable examination, and learn from its 
difficulties of how little use superficial study is. It is poor policy 
to learn lessons simply with the view of getting thro' the recitation; 
the objects of study being to train the mind and store the memory. 

Thy composition was quite interesting, but I expect it would be 
a better exercise to write a wholly original one, than simply to 
relate in thy own language an incident or story already once told. 

I wonder how study and coasting will agree. No doubt the 
teachers will think study the more legitimate. Perhaps if prompt 
and systematic, there will be room for both, but no doubt in making 
up thy sandwich, the sledding will be a thin course, between two 
thicker ones of study. 

I notice thee speaks of finding the cap, being so "funny" and that 
it was "funny" thee forgot Mamma's birthday. No doubt in the 



first case thee meant strange; and in the last singular, and if so, 
it is much better taste to use those words. Perhaps nothing in- 
dicates good education and taste more than the correct employ- 
ment of adjectives; yet their use is generally greatly abused, as 
thee may have noticed. 

It is best to write just as little as possible on matters to which 
there may be considerable importance attached, whether they be 
business or pleasure. 

(Before Graduation) Spring, 1887. 

Well, does thee feel all right about the essay? We hope thee will 
do just as well as Rachel, and get a modest notice in the Student! 
Eh ? Please hurry up with the list of things that might be agreeable 
to have under some circumstances. Don't be too modest for thee 
won't get very many of them. The end of the term seems wonder- 
fully close at hand, but we will have to try to bear it. 

We are all looking forward to next summer with a great deal of 
pleasure, which we hope will be realized. Susie and Anna (Wood 
Evans) are both very enthusiastic over horseback riding; the 
former spends a good many of her spare moments trying to exact 
from me certain promises as to her riding privileges next summer. 
Susie and Emily are wild over horseback riding, and when they get 
a saddle on Gypsy they do nearly as they please with her, trot, 
canter or as they will. 

Ivtstone, N. J., 8-25-'87. 
My dear Daughter: — 10 P. M. 

We have examined thy essay* carefully, and have made a number 
of lead pencil suggestions which thee may adopt or not. We think 
the essay very nicely prepared, but I would be glad if thee could 
bring in some general thought on poets and poetry that would 
allow thee distinctly to throw in thyself and thy thoughts, such as 
could not by any stretch of imagination be supposed to be bookish 
or anything but thy own gushing unrestrainable outburst of real 
feeling. While I think the essay sufficiently discriminating and 

*Note. — For a graduation essay, I chose "Horace and his Works," and the 
above letter was sent me after reading a first draft. 



tasteful, the audience can but be persuaded that the descriptions 
are from books and all the data and surroundings are matters of 

This addition or enlargement is not necessary, but I know thy 
enthusiastic admiration for poetry, and judgment and discrimina- 
tion in many matters of taste and of true womanly feeling, and I 
cannot believe thee is doing thyself justice, nor treating the audi- 
ence with the most felicitous courtesy, nor properly reflecting the 
lustre of thy alma mater. I say this the more boldly even at this 
late hour, since I see that the essay is in fact almost complete, that 
it is good, and that it need not be remodelled, but retouched only, 
with some scintillations of thought, some expression of thy inmost 
feelings as they are, and not in the cold wording of history and 
quotation. I have indicated by figures, possible opportunities for 
introducing thy own sentiment; be warm and womanly, heartfelt 
and sweet, just as thee knows how and best can : 

1. Poets and many of the salt of the earth not unfrequently 
spring from obscurity. In this day of enlightenment and free 
partaking of education, of fine institutions of learning, and with 
free government, there is much less to be contended against, and 
opportunities to be deeply prized lie within our easy reach. Stretch 
forth the hand and partake, etc. 

2. How lovely this sacrifice, how amply was it rewarded. Let 
us learn lessons of charity, of hope, of filial love from this picture of 
devotion and of consequent consecration. To many of us the world 
lies before us, the opportunities are all ours, etc. 

3. The mother in this case is not mentioned as the inspiration of 
his youth. 

4. These wise and noble sentiments are worthy of our careful 
consideration now; and they will live while the mind of man 
remains in purity, judgment, and strength. Poetry is the graceful 
vehicle by which to offer to the mind in felicitous language both 
the flowers and the fruits of the garden of the heart. How grateful 
is its triumphant mastery of diction, of harmony, and of thought, 
how elevating and inspiring, who best feels in it a pleasure, often 
without alloy, and without rival, etc. Fame fails not where 



victory in this most difficult and most tempting effort is attained, 
there she perches her banners. Horace thought, etc., etc. 

Do not for one moment follow my wording or thought, but do 
not fail to relieve somewhat the details of historical delineation. 
Where thee says "I think", etc., that is what is wanted. 

Mamma quite agrees with me and therefore writes with me till 

11:12 P. M. 

With love thy interested father, „ T . 

Samuel L. Allen 

Country fairs were popular in the eighties and the one 
at Moorestown had reached a very low period in its 
history, so the task of resuscitation was accepted by my 
father as president. He raised $1,500 for special pre- 
miums and there were 700 entries for these against 
thirty or forty the previous year. In a letter mother 
says; "the number of pies and cakes and jumbles, and 
bread, both wheat and graham, was most astonishing. 
I think there were forty -seven lady cakes, competing for 
Cousin Richard J. Allen's dinner set. Every one was 
interested and Samuel planted a garden on the fair 
grounds this spring which has done very nicely, and 
where some of his various travelers exhibited the de- 
lightful Planet goods which seem to be in very good 

There was an exhibition of fancy bicycle riding on 
both the Star and Columbia, and several entries for the 
best saddle-horse shown. 

Probably this was the beginning of the Esterbrook 
Pen Company's prizes to the school children for the 
next few years. To the boy and girl under twelve years 
old making the greatest improvement in penmanship, a 
half gross box of assorted pens was given. To those over 
twelve years of age a gross of pens was given, and Sue 
has some of hers still as souvenirs. 



Bicycle riding was increasing in popularity and my 
father was able to interest the public generally, forming 
the Moorestown Bicycle Road Association. Edward S. 
Wood has written me: 

This was the outgrowth of the movement started by William 
Parry, Sr., when thy father was a young man to provide a satis- 
factory and safe place for pedestrians, his claim being that the 
person who walked had the same right to a suitable roadway as 
the one who drove. 

When the bicycle became popular thy father carried the move- 
ment one step further, and good gravel sidepaths were built on a 
number of important roads. These were maintained by the free- 
holders, because public sentiment demanded their maintenance. 
With the decline of the bicycle they have in part been done away 
with, although certain sections are still being kept up by private 

The special feature of these paths was that while my 
father superintended their building and care, those on 
the hills never washed, and were as perfect as those on 
the level stretches, this being insured by having the 
path made several inches higher on the fence side, 
the steeper the higher, with a uniform slope towards 
the ditch. The grass not being allowed to grow on 
this lower edge, the water drained off each inch of 
the way instead of wearing gullies until escape was 

Living several miles from the station and school, 
bicycles helped out many transportation questions, 
besides furnishing delightful relaxation to my father. 
Will Carlton's ''The Wheelman's Song" was a great 
favorite of his both in rhythm and sentiment. The 
concluding verse follows: 



Good morning, fellow-wheelman, here's a warm fraternal hand. 

As, with a rush of victory, we sweep across the land! 

If some may be dissatisfied to see the way we ride, 

We only wish their majesties could travel by our side! 

For we are pure philanthropists, unqualified philanthropists 

And would not have this happiness to any one denied, 

We claim a great utility that daily must increase; 

We claim from inactivity a sensible release; 

A constant mental, physical and moral help we feel, 

That bids us turn enthusiasts, and cry "God bless the wheel." 

Samuel L. Allen, was an earnest and enthusiastic 
worker for public and civic betterment, and though at 
times his advanced ideas caused him to stand alone, a 
few years' time rarely failed to prove him to have been 

In the early days, when gravel roads were the best 
known, he was an ardent advocate of a stone road, that 
would give farmers a good hauling surface all the year. 
It was his idea that wide stone roads were unnecessary 
in country districts where vehicles met and passed in- 
frequently, and that only a narrow strip of improved 
road with good sides was required. 

Through his efforts the first experimental mile was 
laid in this manner on the Moorestown-Riverton road. 
It proved such a success that many more miles quickly 
followed ; and in a short time New Jersey was famous for 
her good roads. 

New York and Virginia, or West Virginia, each sent 
delegations from their state legislatures to examine this 
famous mile; and to-day, in 1920, all over the Union, 
roads are constructed on the theory that the amount of 
traffic should regulate the width. 

My mother, as usual, handed me from her "black 
bag," figuratively speaking, the very letter I am so glad 



to include just here, a letter father sent in 1913 either 
to the governor of each state, or more probably to each 
road commissioner: 

In this day of autos, of better highways and higher speed, the 
danger points on the roads as now constructed are mostly at the 
curves, especially in hilly and wooded sections. If they could be 
made as safe as the perfectly straight parts, it would be a great 
advantage; and it is a fact that proper construction will make 
them automatically far safer than any other parts of the road can 
be. Instead of crowning them in the center as is now customary, 
with slight exceptions, make them with a single slope upwards from 
the inner edge of all short curves to the outer, shoulders and all. 
This can be done with but slight additional cost, and the absence of 
danger will pay over and again for any extra expense that may be 

The custom of surfacing the curves with amasite or some 
asphalt mixture is becoming common and is most desirable and 
economical. Curves pitched as suggested would automatically 
regulate the traffic. Each driver, auto especially, would keep clear 
to the right of the centre of the road whichever direction was being 
taken, or whichever way the road curved, and no one need turn 
out a particle, being already on the right side from preference. 
Quite different from meeting on a straight road where both must 
turn out, with loss of time and some risk. 

Think carefully of the tremendous gains in comfort of mind and 
freedom from danger. I can see no way to make the straight roads 
equally safe and pleasant. The only hope in that direction, ap- 
parently, is the discovery of such good firm surfacing material as 
will enable us to reduce the crowning of roads to the lowest limit 
and so make drivers prefer to keep to the right on the slight incline, 
rather than to be frequently turning out. 




COASTING was a synonymous term for winter to 
my childish mind, and my father seemed to enjoy 
it as much as I. Different slopes were tried about 
our home, until finally a hill was made on the north side 
of the shrubbery on our sloping lawn. Here ice and 
snow remained days or weeks longer than elsewhere, 
and by removing a panel of fence we could get a quarter- 
mile run down a gentle slope around the hotbeds and 
into the cornfield below, where he loved to take advan- 
tage of the least grade by twisting in and out between 
the cornhills. Here we coasted as long as we remained 
on the farm, and all the sleds preceding and including 
the "Flexible Flyer" were tried out here. Every night 
the hill was mended and iced, and father usually took 
a few rides then or early next morning. I was expected 
to continue the trial while the surface held, or until 
school time, and to give a clear report and criticism on 
his return. 

At Westtown I always had sleds of varying styles to 
test; one tricky little canvas three-seater, the "Phan- 
tom," being the despair of everyone. The secret lay 
in keeping the arms close to the side of the body and 
steering a little, constantly. The sled then did not have 
time to get out of the track. 

Once Uncle Jonathan Williams borrowed it after 
"morning privilege," but stopped after the third upset; 



while one of the boys who reached the bottom after a 
series of Spencerian curves remarked, "But it would 
break a snake's back to follow my track." The Laun- 
dry hill was a fast one, and the winter that it did not 
go through the woods but came back over both ditches 
Uncle Jonathan asked me to take down Joseph Scatter- 
good, the minister. This was difficult without a third 
one in front of me to balance, but I did not dare risk 
the increased speed from more weight, and I never can 
forget my thankfulness in reaching the bottom safely, 
nor my determination never to take down so precious 
a load again! 

In 1884 my father gave the "Fleetwing" to the West- 
town girls. I wrote of it at the time: " 'Fleetwing' will 
carry six very comfortably. It is made in the very 
lightest and strongest way that could be thought of, 
and is just no weight at all for five or six persons to 
pull. Indeed three or four are sufficient. It is painted 
a beautiful gray blue and has a silver name plate and 
a gong. It is steered with handles and the front sled 
is fastened to the rear one by chains, so steering the 
front sled also guides the rear one, this being an advan- 
tage in turning curves. Many have been the predic- 
tions that 'Fleetwing' would not run, and that it 
would upset, and that when the front sled was guided 
towards the left the rear one would run around towards 
the right! All the suppositions proved incorrect, and 
it made some very good runs. "Beat 'The Jersey?' 
Oh, my! Why, it leaves that thirty or forty feet be- 
hind looking after it with wistful eyes." So said 
Lloyd Balderston. I steered it down the first three or 
four times, and Rachel Alsop took it down twice, and 



Master Canby once. When lie took it down he said, 
"That's poetry, that is!" 

Edward S. Wood has written me the following notes 
of coasting on the boy's side : 

When sledding was a major sport at Westtown Samuel L. Allen 
was much interested in the development of a sled that would, with 
eight men, win the flag from the larger and less carefully designed 
sleds. Albert Votaw, Henry Bartlett, Stogdell Stokes and myself 
ordered the "Ariel." At first both front and rear bobs steered. 
This made the sled very difficult to handle on ice, because it was so 
sensitive that it was hard to control, and the statement that 
"The 'Ariel' was climbing trees" was common in the school at 
that time. 

We finally made permanent the rear bob, and I personally was 
able to "feel" the sled out, so that the last two years of the sled- 
ding on the old hill, where there was real speed, carrying eight men, 
I won the bully flag from the "Aurora" with fifteen or sixteen. 
Thy father spent a great deal of time in designing the sled, so that 
the weight would be properly distributed between the two bobs. 
The runners were convex, and there were no screw-holes in them 
where they touched the ice or snow. After I left Westtown the 
sled was sold to a syndicate headed by S. P. Leeds, Jr. 

Thomas K. Brown tells me: 

Samuel L. Allen's interest in sledding often brought us together 
at Westtown, and I remember his various experiments in sleds 
that steered, samples of which were sent out from time to time to 
be tried on our track. They always worked, but they were compli- 
cated and expensive, yet he always aimed at simplicity with its 
resulting cheapness. 

For some years he worked on the idea of the bobsled. There 
came a time, however, when nothing new was sent to us, and then 
the "Flexible Flyer" appeared — a completed creation. It was one 
of those marvels of mechanical simplicity which seem incapable of 
improvement. In many ways it is the most wonderful of all his 
inventions, for it stands alone as the one steering sled of the con- 


tinent. I have long regarded it as a special personal privilege that 
an old Westtown boy, and a friend of mine, should have furnished 
to the young people of our country such a means for enjoying one 
of the most exhilarating and healthful of all the outdoor pleasures. 

Edward W. Burt "only expected to remain with us 
six months while he learned typewriting and sten- 
ography," but thirty-nine years have passed, the latter 
ones as sales manager, while now he is general manager 
and first vice-president since the incorporation of the 
company in 1918. He has written some recollections 
of those early days that follow chronologically : 

"Flexible Flyers" were invented to provide work for the factory 
during the summer and fall months. S. L. Allen & Co. had little 
or no trade in agricultural implements then, so many of their men 
left in the spring to work on farms during the summer, and some 
of the good ones never came back. S. L. A. studied the dictionary 
to find some article that could be made during the dull season, 
and "sleds" was one of the words considered. 

I recollect his making trips to Albany, N. Y., which was a great 
place for coasting then, to see what was on the market and to try 
out his ideas. At that time when coasting was good certain streets 
in Albany were devoted exclusively to this sport, policemen were 
stationed at the cross streets and horses pulled the heavy double- 
runner sleds, which would hold a dozen or more people, back up 
the hill (the sleds, not the people). A number of clubs were in 
existence, and the members were willing to pay almost any price 
for what took their fancy. 

Extracts follow from letters of my father, probably 
from Burlington, Vt. : 


* * * I forget what I said about my trip. In brief, gone 
five days and nights, four of the latter spent in the cars. Spent a 
little over one cent a minute the whole time. First day spent at 
Rochester, a city I always enjoy; a great place for sleighing and 



coasting; a good place to buy furs, warm gloves and mittens, 
etc. * * * 

At Rochester they had a new toboggan slide which I visited; 
but it was an expensive club affair, and while I expect I would have 
tried to ride if opportunity offered, I was well satisfied, as toward 
evening I heard that a man had broken his leg there. 

The slide had two troughs, each about three and a half feet 
wide, built of lumber, the sides slanting, the whole height about 
fifty feet and length 150 feet; steps at side, platform at top, 
house with fire and engine below; built on canal bank at a bend, 
the foot of slide opening directly down centre of canal, in which 
the water was very low, but covered with ice. 

Toboggans were from five to eight feet long, made of parallel 
strips of thin wood, making a width of about sixteen inches, the 
front end being turned up, and the whole kept firm, tho' yielding, 
by frequent crossbars, the whole riveted together, and generally 
supplied with a thin but firm cushion lying between the two- 
inch high hand rails on brass mountings, and lashed across with 

Some held five or six; the ladies in front sat tailor fashion; all, 
indeed, except the steersman or possibly a boy with feet over the 
dash. The steersman on his hip or left knee guided the contriv- 
ance with his right foot. Poor sport, I thought, except perhaps 
that you attained breathless speed with greater safety, but the 
steering was very hard on the feet and shoes, very crude, and was 
never artistic as I saw it, but seemed chiefly a desperate effort to 
keep the toboggan from turning entirely wrong end foremost, 
which reversal was quite a common thing. * * * 

* * * At Burlington the hill is nearly a mile long, and the 
sleds are governed by certain regulations, one of which is that they 
must be twenty-four inches wide on the runner, but in reality they 
were nearly all twenty-eight inches. Still they allowed us to run, 
but we were compelled to run all the time with one runner in their 
track and the other out of it, and it was much to our disadvantage, 
and as no one of their sleds carried less than ten and the general 
number was twelve to fifteen, and their weight nearly as great as 
that of ours with its load, we showed to great disadvantage, and 



did not compare with them at all. The toboggan slides were so 
soft that they were not used. * * * 

A. L. Jacoby has been with us thirty-seven years, 
and is now sales manager, while since 1900 he has gone 
to Europe every summer except two during the war to 
sell our goods. He gives this description of the evolu- 
tion of the modern "Flexible Flyer:" 

The first sled that Mr. Allen put on the market, under the name 
of "Fairy Coaster," was of entirely new construction. It was a 
double-runner or bobsled, which held three or four grown people. 
The runners and supports were made of steel and the seat of plush. 
These coasters were beautifully made and finished, and they were 
light in weight and could be folded up, making a package that was 
practical to take in a street car or train from the city to the hill 
in the country. This was, of course, a great advantage. Owing 
to the superior construction of these sleds the retail price had to 
be about $50.00 each, and as this was too expensive to sell in quan- 
tity, Mr. Allen designed a small double-runner sled, having run- 
ners and standards made of steel, which was a new idea with the 
"Fairy Coaster," and a solid wooden seat. This new sled looked 
like a good proposition, and a quantity of them was made up, 
but on trying them out on the snow they proved too small, not 
enough runner on the snow to steer properly, and the stock was 
sold at auction at a nominal price. 

By this time Mr. Allen was thoroughly interested in sleds, and 
only one thing could happen, and that was a sled better than 
anything that was then on the market. He worked up a sled with 
only one pair of runners, made of round steel, and had these run- 
ners weakened at one point about half way back to form a sort 
of hinge, so they could be bent sidewise there. This gave the 
steering effect of a double-runner sled, but with a continuous run- 
ner, which gave sufficient bearing on the snow to insure steering 

This first flexible runner sled was never tried out on the snow, 
but it gave Mr. Allen the right idea, and a sled with flexible T- 



shaped runners and a slatted seat (which was also a new idea) 
was soon made, and, after it was proven a success, was named by 
Mr. Allen the " Flexible Flyer," after many names had been sug- 
gested by others. This was a very appropriate name, as the sleds 
were very fast, considering their size and weight, and were the only 
flexible steering sleds made at that time. 

For many years the name "Flexible Flyer" was not put on the 
sleds, but instead flowers and other decorations were put on the 
centerboard. This was a loss of much good advertising. Mr. 
Allen finally adopted our present trade-mark of an eagle, shield 
and ribbon with "Flexible Flyer" on the ribbon. 

Mr. Burt continues : 

Application was made for a patent for the "Flexible Flyer" 
February 14, 1889, and granted six months later. Then Mr. 
Allen started to advertise and tried to introduce "Flexible Flyers" 
through the trade, which was uphill work. Years before when 
Mr. Allen invented and offered the horse-hoe side steels as an at- 
tachment to the old-style plain cultivator for hoeing, furrowing 
and hilling, he was laughed at by the manufacturers; but eventu- 
ally they were all forced to equip their cultivators with an imitation 
horse-hoe attachment. 

So it was with sleds. The big buyers said that " Flexible Flyers " 
were not practical; they had been boys themselves, they had used 
sleds, and they knew. The few thousands we sold per annum did, 
however, give satisfaction, but the profits were all absorbed by 
our advertising. 

Our salesmen did not take kindly to "Flexible Flyers." It cut 
their vacation short, and they were up against the department 
store buyers who were a different and more difficult class to handle 
than implement buyers. 

We recommended Mr. Allen to dispose of the flexible-flyer 
patent to some manufacturer making ordinary sleds who could 
work them in with his regular line, but he said "No." We did, 
however, relax our efforts for several years, and then came the 
introduction of golf in the United States, a revival of interest in 



tennis, skating, tobogganing and other athletic sports, and Mr. 
Allen again started advertising. 

By this time we had succeeded in convincing a few of the big 
representative department stores, like Wanamaker, in Philadel- 
phia, and R. H. Macy & Co., of New York, of the merits of "Flex- 
ible Flyers," and when we again commenced to spend money 
liberally in advertising, the trade grew by leaps and bounds; and 
eventually the "Flexible Flyer" patent that was thought to have 
so little value by every one but S. L. A. became a very valuable 

Incidentally, that original "Flexible Flyer" patent was a good 
patent, for while "Flexible Flyers" revolutionized the sled trade 
of the country, no other sled manufacturer ever dared offer an 
imitation during the life of the original patent; and, although 
imitations are now offered, the genuine "Flexible Flyers" con- 
tinue to be the best made and the most popular. 

S. L. A. used to say it took from seven to nine years to intro- 
duce a new article. It took all of that to give "Flexible Flyers" 
a national reputation. 

In writing of the sled trade in 1915 to my mother, 
just before Christmas, father said: 

We have been selling sleds at a great pace, averaging right 
along about 2,000 per day, and the demand so urgent we are send- 
ing whole carloads of about 1200 each to New York, New Haven 
and Pittsburgh by express; perhaps five full cars in all. There 
seems little doubt but that we will sell out clean, in all about 
120,000; and it also seems likely that the dealers will also sell 
out clean and be ready to buy freely another season. 

It would seem also that since the patent expired we have had a 
great many imitators, making inferior sleds, and that now this is 
becoming understood by many; and they are leaving the "Storm 
King" and the "Swift Glider" and the "Lightning Guider" and 
the "Fleetwing" and "Safety" and dozens of others to the un- 

Gradually Philadelphia has given up the imitations till the 
salesmen tell me there is scarcely any other make sold in the city. 



I enclose two letters showing that colored orphans even know 
what they want ! 

This was a request for flexible-flyer sleds from a 
colored orphanage, "because the children did not want 
any other kind!" My father was so much amused; 
while it is certainly a triumph to have his home city 
recognize the worth of her son's invention! 




MY parents' wedding anniversaries were always 
observed in some simple way, while the special 
ones every five years were usually occasions of 
most delightful enjoyment. Frequently guests were 
invited or others planned a surprise for them. 

On the fifth or wooden wedding, my mother and I 
were invited to "Woodside" to spend the day, father 
coming there from Philadelphia. While we were sitting 
in the spacious parlor, a great noise was heard, a tramp- 
ing as of many feet coming down from the third floor. 
I just remember the long procession winding down the 
stairs bearing wooden gifts of all shapes and sizes, from 
large and small rocking chairs to a doll's washtub and 
clotheshorse for me. Such a good time followed with all 
the brothers and sisters present. 

The surprise party given to my father and mother 
on their linen wedding anniversary, is vividly described 
in this letter written by Elizabeth S. Roberts (Mrs. 
William H. Roberts) to my maternal grandparents, 
Elisha and Elizabeth W. Roberts, then in California: 


* * * Well, our party was a real surprise, and we thoroughly 
enjoyed actually surprising Samuel ! We thought we might Sallie : 
but when we found Samuel went up on the three o'clock train to 
Riverton, we feared he suspected. 



Edward Richie's carriage went on with most of the provisions, 
while Joe's, David's and the stage met the four o'clock train for 
relatives and friends. Then, at the Meeting House were Alexander 
C. and Mary Emma S. Wood, and Samuel P. and Sarah W. Leeds 
and "old Frank" waiting for us. We formed in line and drove up 
the back lane, leaving our carriages behind the sweet-potato house, 
where the man was waiting. 

We were so afraid they would hear us, that we left all our 
packages and provisions there, and went very quietly to the front 
porch. Samuel had lighted the lamps, and Lillie had pulled down 
all the curtains so they did not see nor hear a thing. Some one 
knocked on the door; pretty soon Samuel came, and there was a 
porchful! He just sort of grunted for a few seconds, then laughed 
and shouted out, "Welcome! Come in. There's plenty of room!" 
By that time Sallie had gotten there, she started kissing, but soon 
backed into the parlor, while the children on the steps went nearly 
wild. Lillie had told them about it sometime during the day, and 
they kept the secret perfectly, but were almost frantically happy 
when they could burst out. 

Pretty soon the men went out for the packages, while two or 
three of us went into the dining-room and arranged the table. We 
soon heard it whispered that "the bride and groom were coming 
down," so we all went into the parlor, and in they walked, welcomed 
by a burst of laughter! It was the funniest sight! Samuel's hat 
looked about eighteen inches high, with a one-inch brim (of course 
it wasn't), and Sallie was a most amusing sight. She had saved 
nearly everything, and they had slipped up and dressed in their 
wedding garments. Her great wide skirt, pleated so full around 
the high waist, and the shoulder seam half way down to the elbow! 
But the funniest of all was the little bunch of chenille hanging from 
the left side of her hair, and bobbing about with every nod of her 
head. It was all so funny, that we had a merry time. 

Supper was now about ready, and the table looked very pretty. 
All was very nice, and it was so kind for you to leave the money for 
the ice cream. We had plenty of good chicken salad, tongue and 
nice biscuit, olives, the ice cream, and plenty of good cake, and 
coffee afterward. When we were through we adjourned to the 



sitting-room and looked at the presents. There was quite a display 
of bundles, and it was much fun to see them unwrapped. 

Then some one asked Hannah Allen to recite for us, which she did 
very nicely indeed, and after that there was pleasant conversation 
until train time. Everything was heartily enjoyed and pronounced 
a success, but we did wish many times that you could have enjoyed 
it with us. 

So the weeks and years flew along, different interests 
crowding the days as the family grew to maturity. 
After my graduation at Westtown father and mother 
took me on my first long trip with his sister, Hannah W. 
Allen, and Cousins Richard J. and Mary D. Allen and 
their son Henry D. This was a wonderful conclusion 
to my school life, and the beauties of the Hudson and 
the White Mountains and of Lake George and Lake 
Champlain have never been forgotten. 

The following extracts from letters to Sue at West- 
town give good ideas of some of the more important 
events. As the silver wedding anniversary drew near, 
a reception was planned, but Emily developed typhoid 
fever, necessitating the recall of the invitations. This 
was as great a grief to her as to any one, but mother 
with her customary philosophy was "so glad to have 
had the pleasure of anticipation." 

The surprise we planned for my father on his fiftieth 
birthday resulted, as Cousin Sarah Richie so well 
expressed it, in "your surprised party," Cousin Sarah 
W. Leeds being much bewildered when father greeted 
her, asking, "Has thee come to join the Half Century 



My dear Daughter: 5-10-1891. 

I am now writing with one of the "fifty points," presented to me 
by Alexander C. Wood on the evening of the 5th. I. also received 
50 stems of the lily-of-the-valley from M. E. S. Wood, 50 beautiful 
large La France roses from Barclay and Mary Leeds and Sarah 
Richie, and 50 new pennies from Emily, also a beautiful pocketbook 
from Charles, a set of gold shirt buttons from Emily, a book and 
towels and two wash rags from Susie (did thee know it? I am very 
much obliged, for they just suit my tender face). The book was 
"In Darkest England"; a light cloth lap robe from Lillie and a 
good whip from Charles ; Mamma a very nice steamer trunk and a 
couple of new cushion covers; then Uncle Will and Aunt Lizzie 
"Lippincott's Biographical Dictionary"; Aunt Bessie a nice 
duodecimo, "The Ice Period of America," and David and Lizzie 
"Half Hours with American History" — 2 vols. ; and 50 lilies-of-the- 
valley from little Aleck. We certainly had a delightful time. Aunt 
Hettie also sent me a book, "John Woolman." 

Lillie I think told thee pretty fully the history of the event. 
She and Mamma spent a good deal of time getting the surprise 
ready, and it was very successful; although as thee knows I had 
some idea that there would be something done, from some things I 
had heard and seen, so I was not entirely unprepared. I had a few 
things brought home, and I carried home on my bicycle a few more. 
When I got within a hundred yards of the end of the lane, I saw 
two or three people out front, but they all disappeared, so that 
when I reached the porch Mamma, Lillie and Emily only appeared 
at the first, and then the door opened and about twenty friends and 
relatives appeared. In about ten minutes Dyer's "Ark" drove in 
with thirteen more, so we had a grand company and the whole 
evening was one round of pleasures and every one I think enjoyed 
it to the full. 

About 8 o'clock (Emily had given Mamma a beautiful basket 
of flowers about 5 o'clock) I had Emily take a basket of small 
packages in one hand, and two or three large ones in the other, all 
marked, and distribute them thro' the room. It only took a 
minute or less, then, for all to understand that I was not entirely 
surprised; and when that dawned upon them, the room, which had 



previously been rather quiet, burst into a grand uproar. Mamma 
almost jumped up and down, and so did Uncle David and Lillie 
was almost "speechless" for a moment. 

That part of the surprise was complete and as I knew it was to 
come in all right, I had not felt so badly about receiving so many 
presents and so much preparatory labor. The 4th was Uncle 
David and Aunt Lizzie's 15th anniversary, so I got the crystal 
ware Mamma wished for them, and I think they were well pleased 
when that was opened, if I am a judge. Then there were a few 
little speeches made; the whole evening was most delightful, and I 
do very much wish thee could have been there. Sally Ann Kaighn 
spoke of missing thee much. 

We had a nice tea on small tables scattered through the parlor 
and sitting-room; everything simple but good, and I think enjoyed 
by every one present. It was an evening long to be remembered. 
We stayed up till nearly 12 talking over the events, and several of 
the guests did something of the same kind, and last evening Uncle 
Will brought Margaret here on a bicycle and Aunts Lizzie Richie 
and Lizzie S. (Roberts) drove down and took tea with us and talked 
over the interesting features. 


It has been a week of great sorrow to Ezra and Edward Lippin- 
cott's families. Ned died yesterday and the day before Lucy died 
very suddenly. * * * A most sudden and unexpected death, 
and the several recent cases are sufficient examples of the shortness 
of life and the necessity of so living that we may have nothing to 
regret when the summons comes to us. This requires greater 
watchfulness than we are in the habit of, and I hope we may all 
be incited to greater care and thoughtfulness. 


Davie's advice about skate straps is very good. Thee ought to 
have good, strong, well-fitting shoes, and then wear an extra pair 
of stockings when thee goes skating, and start out skating with 
shoes pretty well laced up; or better, walk to the pond with shoes 
loosely laced, and then draw them up pretty tight as thee can bear. 
The shoes ought to be good ones or the soles or heels will losen or 
pull off or will not be firm. But when well made, and when they 



fit close, by means of an extra pair of stockings, and are well laced, 
the pressure comes equally all over the foot, and all may be made 
much more firm with less hurtful pressure than with straps. 

My dear Daughter S. J. A.: 

* * * I am very glad to hear of thy good composition and 
think Teacher Ann is the one who can best judge of that kind of 
work. Lillie also made an impression in the same way, I remember, 
and I hope that in both cases it means that you will make useful 
people in society. We think a great deal of Teacher Ann, as I expect 
thee does, and I wish thee would tell her that I am very much 
gratified that thy work in composition, under her care and guidance, 
is so satisfactory. 


Charlie and Emily both enjoy their chickens. They are reduced 
by sales to us to about 50. The kittens have a great time together 
now, both large and healthy. * * * Children are full of their 
chickens, and it is hard to get them to write, though they may want 
to tell thee how the hens lay, and how they are training two-day old 
chickens to live together with grown cats. 

* * * Charlie and Emily are supremely happy tonight be- 
cause I recollected to bring home a can of Sheridan's condition 
powder! They have not been satisfied with getting more eggs a 
day than anybody they hear tell of but the grocer — they want 
twice as many! 

Emily has just now said give thee a great deal of love and tell 
thee she now has twenty little chickens. She has had altogether 
thirty-three dozens of eggs, has two hens setting now, and six that 
want to set. So she is greatly interested with her success. Charlie 
is, of course, making more throwers and lances, etc., tho' he wants 
to make chicken coops tomorrow and is very much interested in 
Emily's success with both chicks and pigeons. 

One night in the early spring of 1892, my father was 
walking up and down the sitting-room at Ivystone when 
he suddenly said, "Burt wants to go to Japan, but I am 



going to tell him he has to stay at home because I am 
going to Europe!" My astonishment and delight were 
unlimited. Preparations began at once and the first of 
Sixth month found us on board the "City of Paris." 

Our immediate party of my father and mother, my 
sister Sue and myself, was increased by cousins Barclay 
R. and Mary M. Leeds; Alexander C. and Mary Emma 
S. Wood, Anna S. and Alex C. Wood, Jr., Hannah H. 
Stokes, Richard and Sarah Reeve and their daughter 
Hannah C. Altogether there were twenty Friends on 
this boat, while many came to see us off or wrote ship 

In England we followed a very choice itinerary made 
by Emily Lippincott, a mutual friend and near neighbor, 
and it seemed that nothing could be more delightful 
than those wonderful days. We particularly enjoyed 
the coaching and the beauties of rural England, our 
party frequently dividing to make independent ex- 

My father went to Paris about a week after landing to 
see Mr. Pilter, his French agent, and to meet several of 
our salesmen there. In the meantime my mother and 
Sue and I explored London, gratifying individual tastes, 
for we remembered the parting admonition of a friend 
to the effect that "London has been there hundreds of 
years and will continue to stand, therefore try to see 
only the parts that appeal to you," adding, "I nearly 
killed myself trying to see it all in three days." 

This became the keynote of our travels, to visit what 
was of greatest interest to us, leaving the rest for "the 
time wealthy." We soon learned why people crossed 
the ocean to remain only a week or two, for our six weeks 



in England were so full of charm we thought it would be 
impossible to assimilate new ideas and scenes on the 
Continent for ten weeks more. But this, too, we ac- 
complished and our summer was a glorious one, never 
to be forgotten. 

Our party there was under the care of Dr. and Mrs. 
Howard Paine, of Glens Falls, New York, who relieved 
our gentlemen of all responsibility. While we were on 
our farm homes in America this seemed quite desirable, 
but experience showed that the difficulties of foreign 
travel were largely exaggerated, for anyone using a 
little ingenuity plus money, though speaking English 
only, would have few difficulties on main routes of 
travel. 1892 was the year of the cholera and from Berlin 
to America we drank only "waters." Of all we tried 
Avignon seemed most like the good old hundred well 
at Ivystone, that is, had no taste at all but was just 
delicious water. 

We were in quarantine thirty -six hours in New York 
Bay and had plenty of company, one boat not far away 
having several cases of cholera and one death. First 
day morning there was a little gathering in the cabin, 
and one of the ministers read from the grand old thirty- 
seventh Psalm, "Fret not thyself." Happily our ship's 
company could present a clean bill of health and we 
docked with much thankfulness that we had traveled so 
many thousands of miles, yet returned in safety. 

Home never looked more attractive, but Ivystone 
seemed like a tiny English cottage with trees taller than 
any we had seen abroad. 

My mother was always an excellent "shopper," and 
knowing home values it was easy to buy to great advan- 



tage in 1892, even with the duty added. Father was 
willing and anxious that we should buy almost anything 
we wished for some definite purpose or as mementos for 
relatives and friends. When Cousin Barclay R. Leeds 
called to see us soon after father's death, he said "Samuel 
Allen always asked each morning if you had money 
enough for the day." Indeed, my father was ever 
generous in money matters. He told a friend that 
with the increased success of his business, he felt it 
right to give more and more freely, realizing the power of 
money for both good and evil. Thus, "he remained boyish 
in spirit, and was one of the few men whose property 
did not destroy his ideals." I recall a selection I had 
made of Venetian glass, a very modest vase. On asking 
his opinion the reply was, "Well ! I wouldn't come three 
thousand miles, then take home anything that looked 
like that!" So he chose something for me, a beautiful 
shaded green vase with a cut-glass decoration in gold. 
Father was amused to have the salesmen tell him that 
John Wanamaker was their largest customer, but it was 
many years before J. W. offered any vases for sale 
similar to his selection. 

We had always objected to very large pictures crowd- 
ing a limited wall space, and as an example how com- 
pletely Ivystone filled my mind we purchased only 
photographs of moderate size. 

In looking back over the years it is interesting to 
notice how my father developed our appreciation of the 
beautiful and artistic, as he led us along most lovely 
paths, beautifying them with his own discriminating 
taste. His sense of fitness was always keen; his vision 
of the future sure. He said to a friend : "I was wonder- 



fully fortunate in my selection of a wife. So long as I was 
doing my best, she would have been happy in a mud 
hovel; yet she could enjoy a palace and fit herself grace- 
fully into such surroundings." 

My dear Daughter : 1-29-1 893 . 

Mamma's 50th birthday anniversary! And she had over 50 
verses and letters combined, a very interesting collection indeed, 
that everyone who took part in writing would like to examine, and 
thee would be very much interested, I am sure. There were some 
duplications, of course, but not many. Quotations most numerous 
from Whittier and some in prose and blank verse, some from 
Scripture. In order to have them uniform we sent out the regret 
cards and envelopes; so all but two or three are the same shape 
and size, and will fit nicely in a special case to be made by Lillie. 
Aunt Rachie Tatnall came but not Aunt Sue. It has been a very 
pleasant day to us inside, tho' unpleasant without; raining but not 
much thawing. 

Lillie and I shopped 7th day and the result was pretty satis- 
factory. Went home at 2.30, taking Aunt Rachie with us and did 
not surprise Mamma much, because Annie was so interested she 
commenced to make rolls for tea and excused herself by saying 
Lillie asked her to; at which Mamma was shocked, and so after 
two or three hours Annie told her that was a fib, but that Lillie 
told her we were going to bring up two friends and so she thought 
she would like to make the rolls, but she could not tell the fib and 
stay satisfied. 

We brought home numerous bundles, among the rest fifty lovely 
roses, and those we arranged in a centerpiece for the supper table; 
surprise No. 1 when we went out. Had them in the parlor in the 
evening and looked over our photos, etc. Very interesting with 
Aunt Rachie, as she had been to most of the countries and many of 
the places we had. 

In the morning I quietly changed Mamma's old watch for a new 
Elgin, fine quality, so she did not know what had happened when 
she came to wear it. When she came downstairs there was a letter 
in every chair and corner and under every teacup, sugar bowl, 



etc. ; and we had fully intended to have our steak served in a new 
chafing dish, but there were no wicks in the lamp. But tomorrow 
morning we will have it with hot water instead. 

The watch was surprise No. 2. Then Aunt Sue Janney sent a 
framed surf scene; Anna J. Lippincott, her sister, a small book. 
At breakfast we had fruit on new Japanese plates, No. 3. At dinner 
we had a covered china vegetable dish brought on after we were 
seated, one of a new set, very pretty, ornamented in old-fashioned 
blue and gold, No. 4. Also new ivory-handled dinner knives, No. 5. 
It was then hard work to get her to notice the new black silk bag 
Lillie had made her, No. 6. At breakfast we had the chafing dish, 
No. 7. Altogether the anniversary passed off delightfully, Mamma 
in a fair way to be spoiled with flattering poetry, etc., but I don't 
think she is yet; will know better in a week or two. 




ENRY M. CLAIR is the dean of the salesmen, 
having been with us forty-three years at this 
writing. He gives a few recollections : 

My connection with the firm of S. L. Allen & Company began 
on May 8, 1877, at No. 229 Market street. 

In addition to Mr. Allen, as head of the firm, there were E. S. 
Child, H. C. Perkins, Edward Tatnall, bookkeeper; Edward 
Hulmes, salesman, and a young man as helper in the shipping 

The "Planet Jr." line consisted of garden seeders, wheel hoes, 
paris green dusters and one-horse iron frame cultivators, with 
Mr. Allen's invention of a side-hoe attachment making it a horse- 
hoe— the first tool of the kind on the market. In addition to 
their own goods, they handled a general line of implements, such 
as plows, disc, spring tooth and spike tooth harrows, corn shelters, 
lawn mowers and feed cutters and grinders. They did some job- 
bing business in all the lines and quite a good retail business, there 
being but one other firm in the implement line in Philadelphia. 

The demand for garden tools at that time was small, as few 
professional gardeners used them or even knew of them, and I 
remember returning from one of my early trips somewhat dis- 
couraged and speaking to Mr. Allen about it. He said, "We have 
no fault to find; go ahead; if you sell one drill a day we will be 

Mr. C. R. Root, a seedsman of Rockford, Illinois, was one of 
the first to send Mr. Allen a testimonial on the work of the No. 1 
and No. 2 drills and to back it up with an order. Several years 
later Mr. Allen told me of the circumstances and requested me to 
call on Mr. Root's family when in Rockford, make myself known, 
and tell them how he appreciated the letter and what encourage- 



ment it had given him. A nephew of Mr. Root's, now in the seed 
business in Denver, Colorado, is still handling "Planet Jr." goods. 

After a trip in the West in Mr. Allen's company, when about to 
start home, the question came up as to what had been learned on 
the trip. Mr. Allen replied, "In comparison with the different 
machines we have come in contact with, 'Planet Jr.' goods are 
far ahead in design, strength and finish, but I'm going home and 
start to make every tool better," which he did, beginning with the 
"Fire Fly Plow."* 

Some time ago an old customer of the firm's was telling me of 
his first and only meeting with Mr. Allen. He was a young man 
just starting in business, and on meeting Mr. Allen in the office 
told him that there was no question about the superiority of 
"Planet Jr." tools, but the price was higher than other lines and 
he could not make any money on them. Mr. Allen's reply was, 
"Young man, let me give you some advice. If you cannot make 
any money on our goods, or any other goods you are handling, 
drop them at once. Don't sell goods for the sake of doing busi- 
ness; neither you nor any other man can stand it." He is still 
handling "Planet Jr." goods, and said he had never forgotten that 

On a visit to the factory with Mr. Allen, before the last addition 
was made to the building, he remarked that he did not think he 
would buy any more bricks. If he could sell the output of the 
present place when run to capacity, he thought he ought to be 
satisfied. On my return from a trip, some three or four months 
later, he asked if I had seen the plans of a new addition they were 
going to make, and on my reminding him of his former remark 
he replied, "There is not to be a brick in it, to my knowledge; it 
will be all reinforced concrete." 

Mr. Allen was comparatively little known, personally, by firms 
handling his goods, but all realized that they were being justly 
dealt with, and any error through oversight would be willingly 
and gladly corrected. The fact that so many firms now doing 
business with the house are customers of from thirty to forty 
years' standing is good evidence of this. 

* Note — This remark is so characteristic I feel as if I had heard it many, many 



In my long acquaintance of him, I never heard him speak an 
unkind word to an employe, and he always had their welfare at 
heart, as is shown by the accommodations, comforts and means 
of entertainment provided for them at the factory. 

Charles M. Wainwright might be called the sub- 
dean of the sales force, as he has been selling "Planet 
Juniors" forty -two years, and for a number of years 
he and Mr. Clair were our only travelers. His account 
follows : 

The writer entered the employ of S. L. Allen & Company, 229 
Market street, February 2, 1878, and has just finished forty-two 

I went on the road October 17, 1878. Mr. Allen called me into 
his office before I started and said, "Charles, I want thee to be 
careful, as there are a great many temptations for a young man" 
— advice that a father would give to his son. 

I attended a few field trials in South Jersey with Mr. Allen 
with the "Advance Plow." The consensus of opinion among other 
competitors was that it was not the plow that did the best work v 
but the plowman, Mr. Allen. 

I remember the fire in Carter's alley when Mr. Allen first 
started to manufacture his own inventions. The salesmen were 
notified to keep on selling goods, and we then went to Catharine 
street, where that winter Mr. Allen succeeded, by hard individual 
work, in getting out the goods that had been sold. 

When Mr. Allen brought the first steering sled to Catharine 
street for inspection, we all laughed at the sled, and could not see 
any future for the sale of a sled of that type; but with Mr. Allen's 
usual persistence against difficulties which would have discouraged 
the average inventor he showed us all that he was right, although 
it was uphill work for several years to get the "Flexible Flyer" 

At 229 Market street we boys generally carried our lunch to 
the store. I remember one day Harry Perkins asked me if I 
was not tired of eating a cold lunch, adding that he thought some- 



thing hot would go better, and suggested that I go to the wharf 
and buy twenty cents' worth of raw oysters, and we would pan 
them. I also purchased a tin pail for ten cents. We seasoned 
the oysters and put the kettle in the office stove. We left the 
stove door open, and were just figuring on a feast when in walked 
Mr. Allen. We did not want him to think we were trying to make 
a restaurant out of the office, so we quickly shut the stove door, 
and, of course, the draft made the fire burn up. Mr. Allen did not 
stay long, but remarked as he went out that he smelled something 
burning. We said it was nothing, but when we tried to take the 
kettle of oysters out of the stove the bottom had melted out and 
the oysters were burned to a crisp. That finished our hot lunches. 

Here is another little story as told by Harry M. Clair in the 
days at 229 Market street. Mr. Clair had in view another posi- 
tion. Mr. Allen called him aside and said, "What is the matter, 
Harry, don't thee like the implement business?" "Oh, yes," 
replied Harry, "but I thought I would make a change." At 
that time our bookkeeper had left us, and Mr. Allen said, "Can 
thee keep books?" "No, sir," said Harry, "I can't keep books." 
"Well, then, thee keep the books," said Mr. Allen. This shows 
the confidence Mr. Allen had in Harry M. Clair to accomplish 
something that he had not been taught. 

Mr. Allen and I made a trip South several years ago, as he was 
interested in a sugar cane cultivator. He visited Vicksburg and 
called on our old customer, the Louis M. Hoffman Hardware 
Company. Mr. Hoffman sent one of his employees out to insert 
the following notice in the newspaper : "Mr. S. L. Allen, of S. L. 
Allen & Company, a multimillionaire, has arrived in the city, 
and is visiting Louis M. Hoffman." 

Mr. Allen read the notice, but made no comment. The next 
morning Mr. Hoffman sent his boy over to the hotel at seven 
o'clock to escort us to the store. Mr. Allen had not yet made 
his appearance, and after waiting until 8.30 I went up to his 
room and told him Mr. Hoffman had sent the boy over for us at 
seven o'clock, and was still waiting for us. Mr. Allen remarked 
in his usual characteristic manner, "This is not the time million- 
aires get up." 



The grand service that Mr. Allen has given to the farmers of 
the world in his "Planet Jr." inventions; the joy that he has 
given to the children in "Flexible Flyers" can never be estimated. 
We all loved him for his good qualities, and high principles, and 
he was a leader and father to all his employees. 

Edward W. Burt continues his account: 

Samuel L. Allen combined inventive genius with great business 
ability in a marked degree. It is an unusual combination, and 
made a great impression on me during the thirty-nine years I 
was so closely associated with him. I rarely saw him during the 
first four months, as his shop in Carter's alley was burned out in 
February, 1881, and his entire time was taken up in re-establishing 
himself in what had been Joseph S. Elkinton's soap factory on 
South Second street neat Catharine. Later on, in August, 1881, 
the office and warehouse were moved to Second and Catharine 
streets, and soon after that changes in the firm and management 
brought me into close contact with him as stenographer. 

Dictating business letters or selling goods was not an agreeable 
task to him. He had apparently never done much of it, but was 
very apt at writing advertisements of "Planet Jr." seed drills 
and cultivators which were then appearing in the leading agri- 
cultural papers of the day. He could "tell his story" in a wonder- 
fully small space and in small type, and he used to say that these 
early advertisements were the best pullers we ever got out. The 
amount of money spent for advertising at that time (in proportion 
to his capital and resources) was tremendous, but his knowledge 
of what he had to offer and vision as to future possibilities amply 
justified his judgment in later years. A practical farmer himself, 
he was always fond of meeting other practical men, and one of 
his keenest delights was the recognition by leading agriculturists 
of this country and abroad that he had benefited the human 
race so greatly by his time and labor-saving inventions. 

At the time I first knew Mr. Allen his mind was so full of new 
tools and improvements to old ones that he turned the selling of 
the product of the factory over to others as much as possible. 
This had been handled by E. S. Child, with whom I started in 



as stenographer at 229 Market street in April, 1881. Mr. Allen 
was always a firm believer in advertising. Even then he pub- 
lished at irregular intervals a small paper called The Advance, in 
the interest of the "Advance Chilled Plow" (for which he held 
the Atlantic Coast agency), a few other specialties, and his "Planet 
Jr." line. Later on a more ambitious publication called Farm 
and Garden, which was issued monthly and then weekly, was 
established. This carried outside advertising, and after a time 
attained a circulation of some 50,000, and considerable standing 
as an agricultural publication. It took more time and money, 
however, than the firm of S. L. Allen & Company could spare 
from its limited capital, so the paper was sold to E. S. Child for 
$4,000 in advertising, or four thousand lines of advertising (no 
cash being available), and Mr. Child resigned as sales manager of 
S. L. Allen & Company to carry on the publication. 

The office force at that time consisted of Mr. Allen, Edward B. 
Richie (a new member of the firm); myself, with six months' 
business experience; Jackson in the bookkeeping department, big 
Dave and Tom Dilks in the shipping department, and George, a 
half-witted handy man, for running errands, who refused to be 
discharged. He was discharged by E. B. R. quite frequently, 
but he always came back the next day and was reinstated, until 
finally he was induced to join some health benefit association, and 
found he could make more money by getting sick than he could 
by working. He got a little ahead that way, so he "got married," 
and that was the end of him, for his wife got him some other kind 
of a job. 

The office quarters were very crude as compared with the 
modern office in the modern office building. The building had 
been originally used for a large stable, and the offices were in the 
second story. Partitions were put up so as to make six offices — 
two for Mr. Allen, in one of which he had a flat-top desk, and the 
other a drafting table; one for Mr. Richie, one for the book- 
keeping department, one for myself, and an open space in which 
was a big coal stove which heated the whole place when the weather 
was not too cold. The bookkeepers had some old desks which had 
been brought down from 229 Market street. Mr. Allen had a 



flat-top desk with drawers, but as desks were comparatively 
expensive, a carpenter was employed to build a flat-top counter 
for Mr. Richie and myself, his in the middle of his office and 
mine against one of the partitions. There was nothing overhead 
but rafters and a pitch roof. During the summer time when the 
thermometer, as it sometimes did, went up to 98 degrees, one had 
to be careful to look at a chair before sitting down, or he would 
stick fast on account of the pitch which oozed through from 
the roof. 

For salesmen we had Wainwright and Clair, with two or three 
years' experience in selling Eastern and Southern trade, but 
after Mr. Child left no one was familiar with the trade in the 
Central West, where we had the largest business in seed drills 
and wheel hoes. This put it up to Mr. Allen to handle that trade, 
so he started off in September or October to make contracts for 
the coming season, taking in Detroit, Chicago, Rockford, St. 
Louis, Kansas City, Minneapolis, Milwaukee, Rochester and a 
few other points where we had good connections. He was gone 
about two weeks, and on his return he said he had had a splendid 
time. I remarked that I supposed he had his pockets full of 
orders, and he said, "Well, here's one," and he pulled out an order 
for a sample "Fire Fly Plow," costing then $1.80. He added 
that our customers had all been glad to see him, had treated him 
splendidly, but it was rather early in the season, and he could not 
seem to get them to appreciate that he had come out there to sell 
them goods. They regarded it as a friendly visit. He said further, 
"I don't think I am cut out for a salesman, and will never go 
out again," and I think he never did. The orders from those cus- 
tomers came in by mail in due course, and in good volume, but after 
that this territory was traveled by Clair, and Daniel DeCou, who 
was added to our traveling force. 

The heat above referred to was one of the prime factors in 
starting Mr. Allen's export trade. There was no domestic trade 
in the summer, and the heat in the office was so intense that it 
was necessary to do something to keep one's mind off it. I 
therefore suggested to Mr. Allen that it might be possible to de- 
velop an export trade which would enable us to increase our out- 



put, especially at a time when domestic trade was slack. He said 
he had exhibited some of his machines at the Centennial Exposi- 
tion in 1876, and had started a small trade with a house in Ger- 
many, but it had never amounted to much and he was not overly 
confident, but wanted to know what I had to suggest. 

The easiest way to enlist Mr. Allen's interest in a new venture 
was to have something definite to propose. I told him, therefore, 
that I had obtained a list of the American consuls throughout 
the world; I had made some investigations of agricultural condi- 
tions and believed there were 1500 consuls and vice-consuls 
abroad to whom it would be worth while to write a letter, inquiring 
about local conditions and the names of firms who might be inter- 
ested in selling agricultural machinery. I also advised the pur- 
chase of our first typewriter. I offered to learn to operate the 
typewriter and write those 1500 letters if he would allow me to 
spend up to $300 (enough to cover the postage and stationery), 
on the ground that it was too hot to stay in the office without 
doing something and I thought I could make it pay. He made 
one of his quick decisions and said, "Go ahead." It was three 
months before we got the first order, and that came from F. Every, 
Omaru, New Zealand, whom we continued to sell for a number of 
years. At the end of six months a number of other orders had 
resulted which showed a profit on the business that was worth 
while, and ever after that time Mr. Allen was always willing to 
take long chances in the development of export trade. 

One time, a few years later, we got an inquiry from England. 
We had no connections there, and, as it was summer time, and 
DeCou had nothing to do, I suggested sending him over to answer 
the inquiry at a cost of perhaps $1,000. Mr. Allen listened, and 
said, "Very well, if thee can get Daniel DeCou to go." Dan 
needed no urging. He was one of the best salesmen we ever had, 
especially in developing new trade, and although the house who 
had first written us was not in position to import largely, he estab- 
lished connections with another house, selling them $1,000 worth 
of goods for immediate delivery and $10,000 for the following 
season. That same house is still one of our most valued foreign 



Our castings were made by Stanley G. Flagg & Company, 
Nineteenth street and Pennsylvania avenue. Mr. Allen gave this 
his close personal attention, and found it necessary to go and see 
Mr. Flagg at least every other day and write him a great many 
letters. This consumed a lot of his time during business hours, as 
it took nearly an hour to go and another hour to come, with the 
slow street-car service available. The telephone was a compara- 
tively new thing, and the service, as I recollect, cost $120 a year. 
I made up an estimate of the time and money he could save at 
$1 per hour by putting in a telephone, without counting the other 
advantages, and it was immediately installed. Everything to 
save time and labor and enable one to do better work or more 
work always appealed to him. 

Mr. Allen would never buy other people's inventions, even 
though many were submitted to him. He would talk about buying 
them, and sometimes seemed on the point of doing so, but finally 
turned them down. There was no end to the original ideas that 
his fertile brain developed, as is shown by the fact that a bound 
volume of his patents contains over 500 pages; but unless his 
inventions proved to be important improvements over existing 
models they were quickly discarded. He was always seeking to 
make something original, and would never imitate goods of other 
manufacturers, whether covered by patent or not, even if such 
goods could be marketed easily in quantity. 

I never heard a man, woman or child say they did not like 
Samuel L. Allen, but those who knew him best loved him most, 
for he wore well. He had his likes and dislikes, but those who won 
his confidence and friendship always felt they could count on him 
until the end. 

There are now on the pay-roll of S. L. Allen & Company fifty- 
two men who have been in the employ of the firm for twenty 
years or over, most of them continuously, as follows : 

Class A — 2 men, 40 years or over. 
Class B — 16 men, 30 years or over. 
Class C — 20 men, 20 years or over. 



Class A 

First Employed 

Actual Service 

H. M. Clair 




Charles Wainwright 




Class B 

First Employed 

Actual Service 

William H. Roberts 




E. W. Burt 




A. L. Jacoby 




John L. Dales 






Harry L. Shaw 




David W. Perry 




Walter B. Grieves 




William C. Warren 




Nelson Waterhouse 




Frank L. Baxter 


Died 2-3-1920 



Edward F. Phelan 




John M. Bun- 




Walter South 




George T. Collins 




Frank S. Hendrickson 




John T. Madden, Sr. 




Edward L. Richie 




Thomas S. Ardrey 




Horace E. Moore 






Arthur Naylor 




Class C 

First Employed 

Actual Service 

Albertus E. Warren 


29 years 

George R. Barnes 




William Harry Kelley 




Edward Lockhead 




William S. Rambo 


Resigned 1919 



James Cummings 




Arthur Greenhalgh 




William R. Mathews 






Martin Anderson 




Ralph A. Dutcher 




Charles W. L. Hentschel 




William F. Raith 




Class C 

First Employed 

Actual Service 

George C. King 


Resigned 1920 

25 years 

Adolph Schwab 


23 " 

Mahlon D. Elwell 


24 " 

Thomas Hollingsworth 


24 " 

David Leon 


24 " 

Thomas Yungling 


24 " 

Edward F. Gilbert 


22 " 

Adolph E. Perpente 


24 " 

David R. Richie 


24 " 

Alexander B. Sweigert 


24 " 

Archibald McNeal 


23 " 

William Miller 


23 " 

Charles J. Allen 


20 " 

H. Bryan 

20 " 

3. Foley 

20 " 

W. Sanders 

21 " 

W. Schwarz 

20 " 

B. Thomas 

20 " 

G. Thomas 

21 " 

A. Jones 

20 " 




ILLIAM H. ROBERTS continues his re- 
collections and describes the building of the 
new plant : 

The growth of the business, however, and lack of convenient 
shipping facilities had for some time prior to 1889 made us think 
seriously of a better location where we might have an up-to-date 
factory with all modern conveniences for our particular line of 
work. Many trips were made by Mr. Allen and the writer during 
the summer of 1888 around the outskirts of Philadelphia and 
Camden looking for a suitable lot with railroad facilities from both 
the Pennsylvania and Reading systems. The main object was to 
locate where we could have the best of shipping facilities from the 
two competing roads, with sidings from each directly into the plant. 

One terribly hot afternoon, I remember, we tramped the tracks 
from Manayunk to Shawmont, but saw nothing that looked at all 
promising. A certain piece of ground in South Camden seemed to 
offer some attractions by being adjacent to both roads, but was 
most unattractive in every other respect and was soon left out of 
consideration. Another lot near Westmoreland station on the 
Pennsylvania, Chestnut Hill branch, claimed our serious attention 
for a time. This lot was at a crossing of the two railroads, but the 
fact that it was not a grade crossing seemed at that time to make it 
entirely too difficult to handle. 

Sometime before this we had looked at the North Penn Junction 
lot and realized it was exactly what we would like to have, but the 
price seemed almost prohibitive. Bounded on the west and south 
by Fifth st. and Glenwood ave. respectively, on the north by the 
New York division of the Pennsylvania railroad and on the east by 
the North Penn branch of the Philadelphia and Reading railroad, a 
grade crossing (at that time) offering perfect shipping possibilities, 



this property seemed to lack nothing to be desired. It was really 
the finest location for a factory around the city at that time, 
a fact that has been more fully realized in the passing of years. 
Many trips of inspection were made to this lot before our courage 
was boosted to the necessary height and a bargain finally made with 
the owners. 

The selection of this site was of great moment to us because we 
talked very seriously of going to Pennsylvania to live, to shorten 
the daily business trip. A number of beautiful farms on the "Main 
Line" were seriously considered, for the families of Edward B. 
Richie and Walter P. Stokes would have followed had Samuel L. 
Allen and myself "emigrated." Fortunately, we remembered in 
time the experience of neighbors who built a home in Pennsyl- 
vania's lovely hills, "with a beautiful view from each window," 
yet they came back to their relatives and friends in Moorestown, 
because they "could not live on views." So although the call was 
strong, we remained in Moorestown and have never regretted the 

Next came the big problem of getting the best layout of buildings 
and railroad sidings that would give us greatest convenience for 
receiving the raw material where first worked upon, and by proper 
routing pass through the various departments so the finished pro- 
duct would be delivered to the shipping department with the least 
possible handling. 

The best architect on factory planning and construction was 
called in, a man who told us no matter who the builder was, he 
would see to it that we got exactly what was contracted for and no 
exceptions. This was made very emphatic and especially appealed 
to Mr. Allen. This was before the days of reinforced concrete, and 
the most approved mill construction at that time was called 
"slow burning," and consisted of brick walls of suitable thickness, 
dependent largely upon the height of the building; heavy plank 
floors laid upon heavy wooden joists, and girders supported between 
the walls by heavy wood columns spaced according to the dimen- 
sions of the building. The floors of our buildings were of 3" x 4" 
hemlock with a top finish of 1}£" x 3" maple. The floor joists were 
8" x 14" yellow pine supported on girders made up of three 4" x 14" 



yellow pine planks bolted together, and the whole supported by 
columns 12" square, also of yellow pine. 

The main buildings were three stories in height, with walls 
sufficiently heavy at that time to carry another story; the ceiling 
of the upper floors being of the same weight and construction as the 
floors so as to be floors of an additional story whenever needed. 
A few years later when it was suggested that another story be 
added to the main building, we found the laws and regulations 
governing factory construction had been so changed that to put 
on another story would necessitate thickening the walls from the 
ground up, making it economically impossible to add to our 
buildings in the way originally planned. 

Perhaps the mostimportantpartof the whole plant was the forging 
shop, a one-story brick building 250 feet long by 45 feet wide, with 
"lantern top" for additional light and ventilation. Bins for hold- 
ing steel were conveniently arranged along the railroad siding which 
paralleled this building, making it possible to unload steel directly 
into the bins which also opened into the building in close proximity 
to the ' 'cold presses ' ' placed in a row on that side of the shop . These 
presses did the "cold" work, such as cutting, shearing and punching, 
after which the various parts were moved to the opposite side of 
the building, to the "hot" presses and drop hammers, where the 
necessary hot forging and pressing made the finished parts. 

This building was connected with the power house by an under- 
ground conduit through which ran three 1%" Manila ropes from 
the flywheel of the 125 horse-power Corliss engine to pulleys on the 
main shaft running the whole length of the forging shop. Another 
set of ropes ran through a conduit in the opposite direction to the 
first floor of the main building to give power to the grinding and 
polishing room and to operate elevators, etc. Still another set of 
ropes furnished power to the dynamo for electric lights and also 
to run a few small machines in the pattern and experimental shop 
on the floor above the engine room. 

The flywheel of the engine was 14 feet in diameter with face 
sufficiently broad to carry nine 1^" driving ropes. About one-third 
of the wheel ran below the engine room floor, and several times the 
engineer's cat in venturing to walk through the wheel was caught 



by a spoke and thereby forced to make several very unexpected 
revolutions with the wheel until the engineer came to the rescue 
by stopping the engine. We have no record as to whether this 
happened eight or nine times before the cat was killed. 

In those days rope driving was considered the best practice 
where power had to be conveyed from one building to another, 
but it certainly had many drawbacks ; the breaking of one strand 
in a rope meant shutting down the engine till repairs were made, 
during which time no machinery was running and men standing 

Early in the fall of 1889 the buildings were practically finished 
and machinery and all equipment moved from Second and Cathar- 
ine streets to the new home at North Penn Junction. In this plant 
it seemed as if the fondest hopes and even wildest dreams of Mr. 
Allen had now been realized; and what a pleasure it was to him 
when called upon to make a tour through the plant with an in- 
surance inspector to be told that he "never had been able to under- 
stand how it was that S. L. Allen & Company had such low rates, 
but now he saw, for the whole place was in perfect order, not a rag 
about anywhere," referring to the paint shop. Many changes 
have taken place since that day, two fireproof buildings of rein- 
forced concrete have been added, with a combined floor space of 
more than three times that of the original buildings erected in 
1889. The old Corliss engine with its rope drive has given way 
to electricity. Three high-speed, direct-connected generating 
units rated at 100 kilowatts each, or a total of nearly 400 horse- 
power, are now installed where formerly stood the old slow 
running 125 horse-power Corliss. 

A modern feature of the plant is the large dining-room where all 
who wish may have a good hot dinner at a nominal cost. Here also 
is the assembly room, where various entertainments are occasion- 
ally enjoyed. A well equipped dispensary accommodates the 
trained nurse who cares for minor accidents that will happen in all 
metal working plants, and who visits the homes of the sick. 

Another feature the merits of which Mr. Allen was quick to 
realize, and which is now claiming the attention of many industrial 
engineers, is the advanced age compensation plan for employees, 



the primary object being to create a desire and willingness to save 
something from their earnings each week, to be used to purchase 
life insurance or an annuity for the benefit of the employee or his 
family in case of disability or death. The plan which received the 
approval of Mr. Allen was originated and worked out by Horace E. 
Moore, who was assistant superintendent, and has just resigned 
after thirty years of faithful service. This plan provides that for 
any employee who deposits with the company a small portion of 
his weekly or monthly wage, the company deposits a like amount. 
This opportunity has been taken advantage of by quite a large 
proportion of the employees, and combines some advantages over 
any other with which we are familiar. When the men reach a 
certain age, which is the same for all, they are entitled to an annuity 
for life; or, if they die before reaching this age, an annuity is paid 
in monthly instalments for ten years to the beneficiary, usually the 
widow. In no case is a lump sum paid out, the idea in this provision 
being to avoid the all too likely chance of total loss of everything 
at an age when the earning power is greatly reduced, to say the 
least, by those who have never before had any considerable sum in 
their possession. The bait for the unscrupulous is removed, and 
the policyholders and beneficiaries are protected as much as possible 
from the consequences of their own indiscretion. The Evening 
Telegraph said of the welfare work at our plant: "Such work is 
doing more to solve the difficulties between capital and labor than 
any other one influence." 

It was always Mr. Allen's policy to save trouble and expense, if 
possible, by prevention, and this plan he faithfully carried out 
during his entire life. I mean unnecessary expense. When it came 
to buying a drop hammer or press, the cost mattered little if the 
machine were needed, in which case he would almost invariably say 
"get it by all means," and immediately begin to figure out how 
much would be saved by having it. When it came to asking loans 
from banks it was the same way; he thoroughly believed in borrow- 
ing liberally, but always insisted upon the lowest rates and usually 
got them. His keen perception enabled him to see that by carrying 
good balances, taking advantage of all cash discounts, and promptly 
meeting all obligations, the best of credit would be established, 



which not only is the barometer of business standing, but the very- 
foundation of it. 

My father after answering a business question one day 
when I was in the office turned to me with a few com- 
ments, adding most emphatically "I would be ashamed 
to be so poor a business man that I could not get the 
lowest rate of interest!" Another time we were sitting 
at the Gralyn, Miami, and had been speaking of many 
subjects, when I said, "Opportunity is a great thing." 
He replied, "Oh, well, I don't know. You make your 
opportunities. Look at me on the farm; a thousand 
dollars — without interest. (A long pause.) It makes a 
great difference what a person does the first twenty 
years of his business life. Just a little gain each year is 
very cumulative." 

A friend once told me he had just lost the first $500 

he had saved; he "thought if could put in forty 

thousand dollars he could afford to put in five hundred." 
I told my father and he listened in grim silence, then 
said, "It is the very best thing that could have happened 
to him." To my startled "why?" he replied very seri- 
ously, "If he had made a great deal of money in his first 
venture, he might have lost very heavily another time. 
That is why I do not allow my name to appear as an 
investor, lest others should be influenced. Not only 
have I no money to invest outside of my own business, 
but I am very glad I have none, for I would not know 
where to put it. As it is, I keep all my eggs in one basket 
and watch that." 

Let those remember who disagree with these views 
that the average man does not have to supply the capital 
for his business, so his savings may be invested as he 



chooses; while my father created his own business and 
found it slow and difficult work to accumulate sufficient 
capital for its three branches — invention, manufacturing 
and selling the finished product. He often said when 
asked to invest in another business, "It has taken all 
my life to learn to manage my own, and I cannot afford 
to try something of which I know nothing, for it takes 
twenty years to establish a business." Of course, he 
knew there are plenty of sound investments if one be 
content with a moderate rate of interest, often saying 
that over six per cent, was unsafe. Repeating this 
remark a few days ago, the emphatic reply was, "Miss 
Allen, over six per cent, is unsafe." My father fre- 
quently expressed sympathy for professional men and 
women who did not need money in their business and 
therefore had to invest it in things of which they knew 
little, thus frequently losing the hard won savings of 

Mr. Burt continues: 

Mr. Allen invented the modern horse hoe and as Mr. Bateman 
did not think much of it and was averse to manufacturing it for 
him, he started in to make it himself and at the same time 
pushed the sale of his "Planet Jr." seed drills and wheel hoes. 
I doubt if his cash capital at that time amounted to five thousand 
dollars, but he had the backing of Elisha Roberts and of the people 
from whom he was buying supplies, who recognized his sterling 
honesty and ability; and I know that some of these people in 
those early days gave him credit to a larger amount than his 
entire cash capital. I very well recollect the satisfaction that 
was expressed by Mr. Allen the first year that our sales amounted 
to fifty thousand dollars. The present volume of sales is many 
many times fifty thousand dollars and the "Planet Jr." product 
is the recognized standard not only in this country but in more than 



seventy foreign countries, while in some foreign countries, par- 
ticularly in Cuba, " Planet Jrs." are so entirely the standard that all 
machines of that type are called "Planets" and not horse hoes or 
wheel hoes. 

William C. Warren has been with us thirty -five years, 
first in the drafting room, and later as superintendent 
and plant manager. After some years he took a course 
at Cornell in mechanical engineering, and found it very 
helpful in carrying out my father's plans. 

At the Catharine street place of business in the eighties, Samuel 
L. Allen was actively interested in every phase of the business, 
directing on broad lines the financial and sales policies, attending 
directly to contracts for the purchase of the raw materials 
but especially devoting himself to the design and improvement of 
the product. 

In his own office the chief articles of furniture were a flat-top 
desk and a drawing table, and his time up to 1884 must have been 
about equally divided between them, for until that year he per- 
sonally designed the tools and much of the machinery for making 
them; and he made all the working and detail drawings. They 
were pencil drawings, but were models of clearness and were 
artistic to a degree that is not usual in a mechanical drawing. 
There was the constant thought, translated into action, that a 
thing must look well, at the same time that it served a useful 

In 1884 he first employed a draftsman, a small room adjoining 
his own office becoming the drafting room. It was his method to 
give an outline of a problem by sketches and verbal explanations, 
allowing the draftsman latitude for the use of his own initiative, 
but insisting on keeping the desired object definitely in view. The 
parts of a tool must be designed to conserve material and yet have 
ample strength. He went direct to Nature for the best examples 
to copy. For instance, he kept in his desk for many years the 
shoulder blade of a squirrel as a beautiful example of stiffness com- 
bined with minimum of weight, and its ribbed construction became 
a model, particularly for the design of castings. 



It was found that the development of implements in an experi- 
mental way could be most advantageously accomplished by having 
certain workmen devote their time exclusively to the mechanical 
operations necessary in this connection. This was the genesis 
of the shop later known as the Experimental and Pattern Shop. 
A blacksmith and one vise-hand did all the work at first, and they 
were of a calibre that made it possible for them to work from draw- 
ings, rough sketches or verbal instructions by Samuel Allen or a 
draftsman. A sketch might serve for making the first crude model 
of a more or less complicated machine or part; then it would be 
changed (perhaps before it was even tried) by a few words of 
explanation, often with Samuel Allen waiting and watching the 
workman make the suggested change. 

It speaks well for the capability of the workman and the spirit 
of co-operation that existed, when it can be said that the first 
blacksmith, Charles Messner, employed for this line of work con- 
tinued in that department until his death nearly twenty-five years 
later. No preconceived notions held by Samuel Allen or any one 
else were allowed to have place in the light of what circumstances 
showed were needed; i. e., if an experiment demonstrated that a 
certain theory was not soundly based, it was cheerfully dropped, 
and the next thing was taken up with an enthusiasm which in turn 
gave it the principal place, until proved to be of value or otherwise. 
It was this patient and persistent sifting out of the good from that 
which was of less value, by endless trials and experiments, that 
produced the line of appliances that made "Planet Jr." a synonym 
for utility and high value. 

The field trials played an important part in the up-building of the 
business. The first seed drill was no sooner conceived in thought 
than a sample was made and put to the test of actual use; and so 
it was throughout the whole course of Samuel Allen's career of 
invention and design. Some of the objects of these field trials were : 

To give a new tool the conclusive test of use under conditions 
that it would encounter in the hands of a purchaser, and to satisfy 
the critical judgment of the designer. 

To determine by such trial whether there was ground for com- 
plaint that may have come from a user of the failure of a tool. 



To give salesmen and others opportunity to see whether new 
tools, or radical changes which they thought should be made, 
could be avoided by adapting to the purpose tools already being 

William C. Warren also wrote me: 

I wish to express my deep appreciation of the privilege of being 
associated with thy father for a third of a century in his life as a 
business man. His capacity for intense application, his tenacity 
of purpose, his enthusiasm and optimism are characteristics which 
are recalled as having had a stimulating effect on many occasions 
when circumstances would have led one to take a discouraged view 
of events. It is a happy circumstance that these influences do not 
cease with the life of the one who set them going. 

My brother Charles graduated at Haverford College 
in the Mechanical Engineering Course in 1900, and that 
summer he went to England with the Haverford cricket 
team, making the only "century" of the tour. He also 
went to Paris to see the "Planet Jr." exhibit at the ex- 
position, and in the fall started work at the factory. 

My father was so anxious he should have experience 
in all parts of the Plant to learn where his talents lay, 
and that no special favor should be shown him though 
his only son, that Charlie began in the engine room, 
firing the furnaces and gradually working his way 
through all of the various departments. Now, develop- 
ing and perfecting the implements, with invention, is 
his special end of the business, as well as testing the 
machines in the field. He is very well posted in this 
work, frequently experimenting in different sections of 
the U. S. to test machines and methods of cultivation. 

The past few years he has been very busy developing 
a tractor, and especially ' 'Planet Jr." attachments, which 
will work equally well on other makes of tractors. He 



has been in the business just twenty years, and is 
Second Vice-President of the Corporation. 

I am glad to have these examples from his pen of my 
father's mental keenness : 

In thinking of father, he always impressed me as a man of 
wonderful judgment with the ability to discuss or converse on any 
and all subjects. He seemed to have a sense of right and wrong to 
such an extent that he seldom made mistakes, or was on the wrong 
side of an argument. 

We had a city office until 1919 and it was his headquarters, but 
it was his custom to go regularly to the plant on Second, Fourth and 
Sixth days of each week, where he spent most of his time over the 
experimental board with the men working directly on his ideas 
and inventions. This six hours weekly at the works would seem 
a very short time to spend on the development of machines if his 
thought ended there; but instead it was concentrated on the sub- 
ject under consideration throughout the day, at night and early 
morning long before daylight, at all times, in fact, until the subject 
was fully developed. 

With these ideas came also a proposed design for each part, 
together with a method for making them successfully in the shop. 
These suggestions for machines came from his intimate knowledge 
of practical farming and of what the farmer most needed to 
reduce the labor and increase the sales from the farm. 

Implements were very often made up experimentally, tried out 
in the test grounds at the plant with satisfactory results, and then 
tried out on up-to-date farms, only to find that actual conditions 
differed from those anticipated, and the machine would have to be 
brought back and rebuilt; for to be successful, machines must work 
satisfactorily for all markets where "Planet Jrs." are sold. 

In the case of seed drills, years are often spent in developing and 
perfecting a seeder that is satisfactory for the trade. This type 
of machine is always tested out on a moving canvas, which passes 
under the drive wheel of the drill at the speed of a walk. This 
canvas is marked off in feet, and days and months are spent sowing, 
counting the seed per foot, figuring, calculating the average per 



foot, then changing the design and going through the same opera- 
tion time after time, until the new machine does as good or better 
work than previous records. 

With five or six men always at his command in the drawing room 
and an experimental workshop in addition, it was quite possible to 
develop ideas and test machines practically in the shop, before 
they were tried in the grounds. With this arrangement he fre- 
quently would have three or four machines on the drawing board 
in process of construction, and as many in the shop at the same 
time, and each one of these receiving individual concentrated 
thought throughout the day. 

During all the experiments he was very keen to see the advantage 
of any good points, overlooking the poor ones, so that he always 
kept the successful side and arguments before himself at all times. 
Thus with a new idea for a machine, the arguments for its success, 
the variety of work it would accomplish, together with the different 
width rows it would work in, were always ready for presentation 
with the idea. 

When traveling he always carried a small triangle, compass, 
scale, etc., so that he could work en route, drawing to scale on plot 
or section paper and mailing in to the factory for further develop- 
ment on the drafting board with the descriptions above referred to. 
With these sketches the proper dimensions of steel to be used were 
shown, as he knew the sizes carried in stock, and made it a life 
study to determine just where the strength was required. 

Although my father did not have a technical education, by tests 
and experiments he developed working formulae for torsion and 
bending strains which were found later to coincide quite closely 
with the accurate formulae developed by higher mathematics. His 
facility in mental arithmetic was wonderful and the most difficult 
problems were usually worked out in his mind before the average 
person could set them down on paper. 

Mechanical formulae were carried in his head, such as "friction 
depends on weight rather than surface." To illustrate this theory 
by experiment, he found it takes the same pull to pull a board with 
the flat surface on the ground as it does when standing on its edge. 



He also found that a single piece of iron bar is much stronger 
tortionally than two pieces of equal weight. 

In fact the tortional strains of agricultural implements are of 
paramount importance, and failure to allow for them properly 
causes most of the failures, therefore he always carried formulae 
in mind for stiffness or bending strain, such as, "the strength of 
two pieces of steel varies as the squares of the depth in the direction 
of the strain, times the width," so that when sizes of two different 
pieces of steel were given he could figure the comparative stiffness 
at once. 

While on the farm he was interested in building roads and paths 
and could figure out in an instant just how many yards of gravel it 
would take to re-surface a road one or two inches deep, and he cal- 
culated the size stones that would be broken by light carriages, 
and those that could only be crushed by heavy wagons. In fact, 
any and all mental calculations were his great delight. 

Edward B. Richie's eldest son, Edward L., succeeded 
John C. Allen as head of the bookkeeping department, 
and is now the trusted treasurer of the corporation, 
after thirty years of faithful service. 

David R. Richie is a graduate of Cornell University 
in mechanical engineering, interrupting his course for 
a year at the plant and at Ivystone to work with 
"Planet Jr." tools to understand better what was 
needed. In his twenty-two years in the drafting and 
engineering department, he came in close touch with 
my father and gives these reminiscences : 

What impressed me most in Uncle Samuel's work in the drafting 
room and experimental department was his enthusiasm and belief 
in whatever he was working on. He seemed to have almost un- 
limited confidence that the new machine or the improvement would 
be "the best ever," "way ahead" of anything previously made. 
Any one at all familiar with experimental work of this kind knows 
that there are hundreds of schemes tried and cast aside to one that 



is adopted. For the time being, the one scheme we were working 
on was the only thing, but when he found that it did not work 
he never hesitated to discard it and try something else. This 
trying and casting aside one thing after another seldom discouraged 

His belief and confidence in the scheme as a whole kept up his 
enthusiasm. This undying enthusiasm, I think, was one of his 
greatest assets in his experimental and inventive work. Sometimes 
he would cast aside one idea or scheme before the experiment was 
completed, because he would get another idea which seemed so 
much better. Perhaps he would be full of one idea on one day and 
we would start to make something to try it out. A day or two later 
he might suggest something entirely different and stop the work 
on the former idea with "it's no good anyhow; I don't know what 
we ever made it for." 

His resourcefulness in overcoming difficulties in design was 
remarkable. I have often heard him say in regard to a problem, 
"There must be some solution, if we can only find it." Sometimes 
after working a good while over a difficulty we would be able to 
turn things around so that what had been the trouble or obstruction 
would work to our advantage. That always pleased Uncle Samuel. 
He would say he felt we were getting near the final solution when we 
could do that. 

He took a great deal of pains to make the tools look well. Clumsy 
and poorly designed castings were an eyesore to him. The earlier 
machines were rather ornate, but in later years he adhered to 
simple lines. He often said "utility is beauty," explaining that if 
we could make the part show why it was made that shape, it 
disclosed the utility of the design, and would generally look well. 

His memory was probably unusually good along all lines, but 
in connection with machines and mechanical things it impressed me 
as wonderful. A method of making something, or a machine or 
tool which he had not seen for twenty or thirty years, he could 
describe accurately and make a sketch of the main features. He 
was so accustomed to sketching that, of course, it was easier for 
him to describe machines with the aid of his pencil ; yet his accuracy 
of description was such that a great deal of our work was done from 



instructions over the 'phone, while one season we made radical 
changes in a sugar beet cultivator from descriptions by night letter 
from California. 

His good health and vigorous condition led most of us to believe 
that he would live at least ten years longer. I think it was since 
he was seventy years old that I saw him jump up and click his heels 
together three times while in the air. I remember when I was a 
youngster and tennis was being played for the first about here, he 
took great delight in cutting the ball so as to make it bounce 
crooked. And how he would laugh when the bounce fooled his 
opponent ! But he would be so intent on watching the effect of his 
cut that he would be all out of form to receive the ball if it were 

Among Uncle Samuel's many good qualities, his quiet generosity 
and liberality I have many reasons to remember. 




Events Connected With the Completion of Addi- 
tions to the Planet Jr. Works, February, 1913 

William C. Warren contributes the following: 

The prosperous years which culminated in 1911-12 brought 
a rate of production which taxed the capacity of the plant and 
led to the decision to enlarge it. 

Beginning late in 1911 plans were considered, and by February, 
1912, the extent and form of the additions were decided upon. 
The architect's work was followed by placing of contracts for the 
building, and the work was steadily prosecuted through late spring, 
summer, autumn and early winter, until in January, 1913, it was 
brought to completion. 

Those who had been long associated with S. L. Allen in the 
business felt that the opening of the new buildings should be 
made an occasion of some importance, the dedication of another 
milestone of the road leading from the little shop at Cinnaminson 
with its local customers, through years of unremitting toil and 
painstaking attention to the business both in its broad aspect and 
in detail, to an establishment whose patrons were found in prac- 
tically every country of the civilized world. 

February 3d was the date selected, and a carefully worked out 
program provided for a reception in the afternoon for which invi- 
tations were extended to a large number of business and social 
acquaintances who responded in hearty fashion, and the Planet Jr. 
Hall or Auditorium was a scene of cheerful hospitality, where 
men, with some of whom S. L. Allen for forty years continuously 
had had satisfactory and mutually profitable business relations, 



came and wished that there might yet be many years ahead for 
him and the establishment. 

The plant was in full operation during the reception, and such 
of the guests as chose to do so were escorted in small groups by 
guides who had been made familiar with a route through the factory 
that covered all the most interesting points and processes. It is 
probable that no one present either as a guest or an associate of 
S. L. Allen in the business derived more satisfaction from the 
occasion than the host himself. 

In the evening of that day the Planet Jr. Hall presented a dif- 
ferent but no less interesting scene when it was filled with tables 
about which were gathered practically all of the 350 members of 
the organization. There were good things to eat, as well as music 
and jokes; there was also an earnest talk by S. L. Allen, in which 
the disposition of the firm to share the benefits of its periods of 
prosperity with the employees was evidenced by the announce- 
ment of a substantial bonus to be added to the regular wages. 

Thus was the plant as enlarged for the second time given its 
send off. 

My father joined us at Belleair immediately after the 
opening, so his account was verbal, but he wrote happily 
to us the night before : 

* * * Everything seems propitious for tomorrow, tho' it has 
been raining pretty regularly every other day. Clear as a bell now ! 
There are likely to be 200. Everybody seems delighted. Whitall 
and Eliza (the latter) asked if they might bring Alfred, Francis 
Stokes if he might bring his daughter, etc. Those who had to regret 
seemed sorry. No speeches required, happily. I have two in the 
evening, each about 8 or 10 mins. One only has to welcome and 
speed the afternoon gathering. Will and I will not be able to go 
thro' the works. 

When he was building the restaurant for the men at 
the plant my father said : 

I wanted to give it to them; it is a source of great satisfaction to 
me to be able to do this, for in my early business life I had to be 



pretty close with my men; I had to be to keep from going up the 
spout myself. 

Harry L. Shaw at one time had charge of assembling, 
painting and finishing machines, and now makes blue 
prints for the drafting room, and has charge of a stock 
room. He followed the sea for some years, hence the 
nautical terms in the following impressions he gained 
of my father: 

My acquaintance and relations with Mr. Allen began many 
years ago ; to be exact, in the spring of 1 881 . Of his early life I have 
no knowledge. Just prior to this there had been a fire, and it had 
wiped out his small plant in Carter's alley, Philadelphia, and he was 
finishing moving to start anew at Second and Catharine when I 
enrolled as one of the workers of his "Planet Jr." crew. 

The first thing that attracted my attention was the odd trade- 
mark he had chosen for his business, "Planet Jr.," and the more I 
saw it the more it impressed me. Later it appeared he must have 
been taken with the magical sound of the two words. 

The next thing I call to mind was a very f oolish one : that he was 
the proprietor, superintendent, general manager, and a hard worker 
with all. I say foolish because it looked that way to me then, but 
after a short time I found he was a very likable man in spite of 
(to me) his odd ways; going about directing here, advising there, 
giving suggestions generally, and working the same as the rest of 
the crew, only more so. 

Later on it appeared to me, here is a man of wealth amusing 
himself, making overgrown toys for farmers, for these small hand 
tools were the first I had ever seen. 

Well, as time went on I found he was a man of strong personality 
and force, and I began to pay more attention to the man and less 
to the tools. He seemed to be tireless, always fresh and alert in the 
mornings and the same at night with his quick nervous ways and 
manner of speaking. 

It was at this point I began to have another view of this many- 
sided man. I think this was because I had been raised on one of 



the stoniest and roughest farms in northern New England, where 
at that time these toys or dream tools seemed as though they would 
have been of little use, but I had begun to see he had faith in him- 
self and his tools, and I began to have a new view of him from that 
time on. I tried to adopt his point of view and it is needless to 
say I succeeded in a measure. 

I have spoken of the small hand tools as dream toys, and they 
were, and he was a dreamer, but a dreamer of great visions. He 
was blazing a trail that was hard to anticipate, but I had shipped 
for the voyage and I intended to stand by as long as I could be of 
use. This trail led from Second and Catharine in various directions ; 
he did not appear steering any particular course, changing it 
continually. I always thought he had nothing but one miserable 
old dream compass in the way of navigating tools. The way was 
full of bogs of doubt and skepticism, thorns and briars of ridicule, 
and through swamps of unbelief. But here was a man to whom 
these things were not work, but fun to overcome, a man with an iron 
will to do. 

He had started that trail not knowing nor apparently caring 
where it led, because he was so engrossed in working out the de- 
signs and in the manufacture of the tools from day to day that he 
could not devote much time to financial results. Had he done so he 
would have been less successful because his own invention would 
have been poorer; but that trail has been strewn with honest real 
farm and garden tools and "Flexible Flyer" sleds to help the boys 
and girls to be healthy, happy, and to grow to better men and women. 

If you think you are beaten, you are. 

If you think you dare not, you don't. 

If you think you would like to win, but think you can't, 

It is almost a cinch you won't. 

If you think you will lose, you have lost, 
For out in the world you find 
Success begins with a fellow's will. 
It is all in the state of mind. 

Life's battles don't always go 
To the stronger or faster man, 
But soon or late the man who wins 
Is the fellow who thinks he can. 



So much for this man's personality and force of character, his 
integrity and sincerity. He believed in himself and in his work, 
and he caused thousands of others to believe in it, too, inasmuch as 
he always insisted on using the best material available for the class 
of goods he was making for the men who needed it most — the 
farmers and gardeners — an example his competitors have rarely 
equaled to this day. What must have been his thoughts as he 
looked back over this trail! His later years while different were 
just as pronounced, and while the fires of genius within him burned 
as strong as in youth, the details were assigned to younger men. 

Other men I call to mind who worked with dream tools : George 
Stevenson, Eli Whitney, Elias Howe, McCormick, Goodyear, 
Edison. And it has pleased the Great Architect with each man in 
his own order to make his dreams come true. Mr. Allen has left us, 
but his memory is with those who knew him best. 

I have appreciated J. Henry Bartlett's article in The 
Friend about my father, and I am glad to include an- 
other extract here, showing such strong characteristics, 
and also paying a deserved tribute to my uncle, Daniel 
De Cou: 

Expression in world-terms and expression by a communicable 
process have already been pointed out in the public press as 
fundamental in "the call to service" of Samuel L. Allen. Some 
further illustrations of both these points may serve as an in- 
troduction to a brief record of the more personal side of his 
character. Nothing but an intimate knowledge of the working 
of his mind in the initial stage of experimentation with farm 
machinery would justify the statement that from the beginning 
of his career of invention he thought in world-terms. One well- 
known fact makes it clear that this largest outlook featured very 
early in his plans. Before there had been any great development 
of his plant one competent salesman at least, fired with a vision 
of the world-service of the "Planet Jr." inventions, had encircled the 
earth, and planted the seeds of a demand for these tools in the 
Antipodes. Those who were privileged, as was the writer, to hear 
Daniel DeCou recount the experiences of this pioneer effort to 



break through the millennium-long methods of crude agriculture, 
and to put instruments in the hands of toiling farmers calculated 
to increase their returns a hundred-fold, will doubtless remember 
two points in his exposition. He regarded the campaign upon 
which his brother had entered primarily a campaign of emancipa- 
tion. The toil of men under old processes had often been less than 
fifteen per cent, efficient. The problem set for the genius behind 
the scenes was to make such toil seventy-five to ninety per cent, 
efficient and to include in this effort not the market gardens of 
New Jersey only, not the crackling cornfields of Kansas alone, 
but the productions of the soil of every kind in every clime. The 
second point emphasized by this world-traveled enthusiast had to 
do with a fundamental of his own calling. In his judgment he was 
sent out for something more than to sell goods. The reflex action 
of salesmanship was to inform the home circle not only of the de- 
mands of the market, but of its needs. The salesman was to bring 
back accurate information of soils and crops and native processes, 
so that the service of invention should be directed in progressive 
fines. How well this source of knowledge was improved by Samuel 
L. Allen must have been apparent to many from the intelligence 
of his ordinary conversation. He was equally ready to give 
accurate information on the farming implements and methods 
of China or of Greece, although he had seen neither at first hand. 

As to tangible results in the world-field, a very homely instance 
will indicate both how widespread they are and how revolutionary 
in effect they are capable of being. Some years since two Phila- 
delphians were listening to a lecture in England by a returned 
missionary from India. The special subject was famine and pre- 
vention of famine. Intensive farming with a variety of products 
instead of with one was shown to meet conditions most perfectly, 
and the lecturer descanted enthusiastically upon an objective 
performance in the sorriest famine province. A wise missionary 
had realized that changed conditions of agriculture contained the 
key to the situation. He had instituted small holdings and by 
means of a line of hand implements from America, known as "Planet 
Jr.," had taught the natives how to multiply production many fold 
and to provide ample store of food against the day of famine. The 



lecturer said he could not explain the meaning of "Planet Jr.," but 
he was ready to proclaim that such inventions as bore this name 
had already proved to be an important step in the emancipation 
of India. 

Turning from the world-service of Samuel L. Allen's work to 
his method of working, one comes upon a most instructive chapter 
of the "inspiration of American youth." The advanced education 
sixty years ago in the Philadelphia circle was measured by pro- 
ficiency in mathematics. Such master mathematicians as Ben- 
jamin Hallowell, Enoch Lewis and the senior Samuel Alsop had 
made the subject of their choice a field of adventure for aspiring 
youth. Samuel L. Allen was of this kind and he made tireless 
excursions with these masters into the fields of applied mechanics 
and calculus. It is probably no exaggeration to say that more 
than any other one of the students of these teachers, he gave objec- 
tive reality to his mathematical studies. Those studies were the 
basis as well as stimulation of his inventive genius. Doubtless his 
workmanship gave constant evidence of this fact, but it became 
patent as well to his favored companions of travel, especially where 
such opportunities presented as those of a transcontinental journey. 
At times, after a liberal flow of instructive conversation and a 
possible pause of reflection, he would say, "Now I think I will 
devote an hour or two to invention." Thereupon his mathematical 
instruments would be produced, a table improvised and the on- 
looker would have the impression from the drawings that appeared 
that he was working on the demonstration of a mathematical 
theorem. And so he was, for each product of his prolific brain was a 
unity of scientific principles made to fit the complex purposes for 
which it was designed. Invention with Samuel L. Allen was no 
haphazard appropriation of stray ideas. It was a triumph over 
actual resources by the untiring application of right principles. 
In this field there is unlimited opportunity always for any who will 
perse veringly invest "laborious days." 

After my uncle Daniel DeCou's death, A. L. Jacoby 
traveled his European territory and in response to my 
request for unusual incidents about "Planet Jr." goods 



abroad, lie has kindly written me the following, adding 
a little about some of my father's smaller inventions: 

After my first or second trip to Europe I told your father that 
I did not think Daniel DeCou ever received full credit for the work 
he had done there, and no one would realize it except by calling on 
the trade as I did. Although he had never sold a large quantity of 
goods in Europe, he started the best houses in practically all the 
European countries. Dan, as you will probably remember, was 
very enthusiastic in the work; this sometimes however worked 
against us. 

As an example, when he first went to Odessa we had sent a 
quantity of machines ahead of him and he interested the house of 
Houllier-Blanchard, the best house in southern Russia at the time. 
They held field tests with the horse hoes and sold them without the 
slightest difficulty and could have sold many more if they had had 
them in stock. 

Dan then took a very large order for that time from Houllier- 
Blanchard for the coming season. The goods duly arrived and 
the season was unfavorable on account of severe drought. Dan 
was not there to keep up the enthusiasm and the result was that 
there was a very small sale. The following spring was also dry and 
unfavorable for the sale of horse hoes. A still less quantity was 
sold and the firm or the employees decided that the goods could 
not be sold in quantity in their territory, and they lost their interest 
in the line. 

On my first visit to this firm I sent in a business card, and one 
of the partners, a Mr. Hess, came out to where I was waiting with 
the card in his hand, which he handed back to me and said, "My 
partner was fool enough to buy a lot of your goods, but I am not. 
Good day!" With this he turned and went back into his private 

I went to their warehouse and found many of our tools there; 
got their warehouse man to set up a number of them, explained 
them to him and the next year Mr. Hess treated me very much 
better, and in a year or two we were selling this firm more horse hoes 
and hand tools and continued to do so until they went out of 



When I first went to Russia I was told that the people would 
not use our hand tools, saying they were not horses, and this was 
horse's work. I was also told that the Russians would not push a 
wheelbarrow for the same reason, and I have seen a man carrying 
an immense load on his head, a square piano in one case. These 
same men would not put the load in a wheelbarrow and push it, 
saying they were not horses. This did not interfere with the sale 
of our goods very long, and after our implements had a fair start 
there it soon became one of our best foreign markets. 

On one of my early trips to Spain, I visited with our Spanish 
agent, a large beet-sugar farm and sugar factory. They had bought 
about thirty of our wheel hoes the previous season, and we wanted 
to sell them more, but on seeing the proprietor we found that 
practically all the wheels on the wheel hoes were broken. This was 
very unusual, and when we asked how such a thing could happen 
the reply was that the men carried the wheel hoes to the field on 
their shoulders and when they came to put them down to work 
they found a good size stone and dropped them on it to break the 
wheel, as it was cast iron. 

Then they explained that the machines were no good and could 
not be used. The men feared that as they could do so much 
quicker and better work with the wheel hoes than the old style 
hand hoe that some of them would be put out of employment. 

On hearing this tale I said to Mr. Bertrand, the proprietor, that 
I would give him new wheels for the wheel hoes without charge. 
This surprised him very much, as he had made no complaint about 
the wheels breaking, as it was done intentionally by his men, and 
he said, "Will you?" and on my replying "Yes," he said, "Well 
then, send me 200 more wheel hoes." It was now my turn to be 
surprised, as I had not hoped to sell him that many. 

Mr. Allen was in earnest in his recreation as well as in his work. 
Years ago when he bought his first bicycle the handlebar did not 
suit him, so he made an adjustable bar, probably the first ever 
made. Later on I think he made a wooden handlebar. Both 
adjustable and wooden handlebars for bicycles were put on the 
market a year or two afterward by other firms. 

Those Mr. Allen invented and made were for his own use without 



a thought of selling them. These improvements were made before 
the days of pneumatic tires, and as the cushion bicycle tires then in 
use were not very satisfactory Mr. Allen experimented with a 
laced spring steel tire, but as this steel tire had some disadvantages, 
it was abandoned. 

Soon after he took up golf as a recreation he very naturally 
started to make golf clubs for his own use, but this he soon stopped 
as he found so many good ones on the market. Later on, not 
finding a satisfactory nutcracker for pecans, he invented a most 
excellent one, which, however, was not put on sale. 

Mr. Allen's principal inventions are known all over the globe, 
but this wonderful man excelled also in many things that the 
world knows nothing of. Think of the man inventing the best 
agricultural implements of the kind in the world! Those under 
the "Planet Jr." trade-mark are known and used wherever im- 
proved agricultural implements are known. 

In addition to this wonderful line of goods he had time to invent 
things entirely different. The "Flexible Flyer" sled, imitated by 
all sled manufacturers in this country; paris green dusters, prob- 
ably the beginning of spraying tools; a nutcracker; his handle- 
bars; fishing rods and other articles that were not put on the 
market, and were known only to his friends. 

There seemed to be nothing that Mr. Allen did not excel in, even 
to tying up a package. For example, in the early eighties he was 
spending much of his time in the fall of the year experimenting with 
potato diggers. He would try out the latest thing in the early 
morning, then bring the digging forks and tines to the Catharine 
street works and have them altered for further experiments the 
next morning. These forks and tines were about the hardest thing 
imaginable to make into a package. The office boy was rather 
clever with paper and string, but Mr. Allen would rebundle and 
wrap them in a way that was really astonishing. 

There was a verse that father used to recite in this 
fashion : 

"Hanne-ball and Skipeo were two great Competitors, 
They wag-ged war agin each other 
And overran Afric'ka!" 



He once told me after repeating this that he never 
had expected to sell "Planet Jr.'s" on the ruins of 
Carthage, but E. A. Sandford, one of our travelers, 
said that a man was using them to cultivate his fields 
near Tunis, and every now and then turned up frag- 
ments of building stones or an old column. Another 
order was for machines to be sent to Africa that after 
two transfers, possibly by boat and mules, were carried 
on men's backs five hundred miles into the interior, 
while another man wished to trade monkey skins for 

We used to exhibit at the state fairs and Eli Moore 
wrote to father in 1912: 

In the fifty-seven years I have lived in Michigan, I have missed 
but one fair, and I wish to say without any exception your repre- 
sentative at the Michigan State Fair, Charles J. Boyd, had the 
finest arrangement and the best display I ever saw the "Planet 
Jr." have, not excepting the World's Fair at Chicago. The coast- 
ing sleds were arranged in graduated ranks from the large sled, 
big enough to haul a giant, on down to the smallest for little babies. 
All stood as a guard overseeing what went on. * * * I 
sincerely say of your tools, "there are none better." 

For the World's Fair in Chicago in 1892 we had a 
little sewing bee at Ivystone, and dressed the largest 
dolls we could buy as a boy and girl, and they rode 
toy "Flexible Flyers." Mr. Burt wrote me: 

We had one of the most striking exhibits in the agricultural 
building, the principal feature being a very large globe which was 
made at the plant, and encircled with "Planet Jr." implements 
going around the world. We also attended a number of inter- 
national fairs, taking the highest possible prizes, and at the Paris 
Exposition in 1889 we had a very comprehensive exhibit of our 
goods (through our French representative) and we cultivated arti- 



ficial plants during the entire exhibition with our various wheel 
hoes and horse hoes. 

Walter Grieves has always been connected with the 
shipping department in his thirty-five years at the plant, 
and is now the head of that department. In talking 
with me he said: 

Mr. Allen was a generous man, and he had a way of doing the 
right thing at the right time. He did one thing once that I will 
never forget. We had been working on a fertilizer drill up to nine 
and ten o'clock at night, and finally it was perfected. 

He wanted it sent up on the boat to Biverton and I was to carry 
it to the wharf, but on the way I dropped it and the wheel broke 
into fifty pieces! Mr. Allen gave it to me hot and heavy, not only 
for my carelessness, but because of the delay. The next day he was 
examining the pieces, and found there had been a flaw in the cast- 
ing which occasioned the break. He immediately came and apolo- 
gized, and I thought it was one of the greatest things I ever saw a 
man of business do ! We lost one of the best friends we ever had 
around here when Mr. Allen died. 

If Mr. Allen's opinion differed from others, ninety-nine per cent, 
of the time he was right. He was a broad thinker, a world thinker, 
and you could pretty nearly count on his opinion being correct. He 
had some big ideas that were O. K. and others that were not, and he 
was always hunting up new ideas. I met a gentleman once in a 
railroad conference, and he told me Mr. Allen's opinion was far 
superior to others in the same business world. 

He was very broad-minded and an advanced thinker, yet he 
always had time to bid you the time of day. I was never repri- 
manded but once ; I always gave him the best I had, and he seemed 
to take an interest in me. 

David Perry has worked in the pattern shop for many 
years, thirty-eight all told, so he well understood my 
father's methods of thought and work. He said to me : 

If a casting broke, Mr. Allen examined it carefully to discover 
the cause and strengthened it at that point. He worked down in 



the shop in jumper and overalls, and had corns on his hands the 
same as the rest of us. 

We once made a dummy for No. 31 of wood and 1500 machines 
were sold from the dummy before we could get the machines made. 
He brought me a golf stick once and asked me to take half an 
ounce off of it. This I did and when he tried it out he said he could 
tell the difference and it was fine. He could work out problems in 
his head, and he could tell at a glance if a thing were mathematic- 
ally correct or not. In later years we did not see so much of him 
in the pattern shop, as he only came up an hour or so once a day, 
but he kept fourteen or fifteen of us busy down there, four black- 
smiths and the bench workers. One day he was out trying a 
machine, and I heard him say, " I'm fifty today ! I don't feel it, I 
don't feel it." 

Foster I. Felton has been with S. L. Allen & Company 
twelve years, and is in the Order Department, and 
wrote me of my father: 

* * * It was a constant source of wonderment to me to 
observe the vim and activity in a man of his advanced age, and 
I have often remarked that it would indeed be a pleasure to reach 
his age yet retain his wonderful vitality. In his Florida travels 
he must have discovered that Fountain of Youth for which Ponce 
de Leon so vainly sought — for from year to year I could observe no 
weakening of youthful power, nor added marks of age upon his 
brow. * * * 

I have always thought that the manufacturing of farming im- 
plements was one of the greatest pleasures of Samuel L. Allen's 
fife. Bending over a drawing board, directing, explaining his ideas, 
endeavoring to illustrate his theories ; those to him were moments 
of the keenest pleasure. I don't believe ten hours on the golf 
links afforded him one-half the enjoyment that one hour spent in 
the field did surrounded by salesmen trying out a new machine for 
the market. It is my opinion that our chief was a dreamer, but a 
dreamer of the Henry Ford type; one who was constantly striving 
to make his dreams come true. 

When a few years ago the fine six-story building was erected, with 



all the latest improvements, including restaurant, dispensary, and 
recreation hall, his realized dream of a mighty home for the "Planet 
Jr." tools was only an incentive to greater and better efforts. In 
his speech to us in Planet Jr. Hall, at the annual banquet, I well 
remember him calling our attention to the girders that extended 
from the side of the latest new building facing the south. He 
intimated that this signified the erection of another at some later 
date. So that his dreams of progress never ceased, and ambition 
kept the fires of youth ever burning though he had passed the age 
of three score years and ten. 

Summing up my observations in a concrete form, I would say 
Samuel L. Allen's keenest pleasure was in the lifework he had 
chosen, the joy of living was in the success of the many children of 
his keen brain and the realization of his ambition to make the 
"Planet Jr." tools a mighty force and power in the agricultural 

Of personal experiences I have heard many, some from men who 
had seen thirty years come and go in the service of S. L. Allen & 
Company. When the firm moved their city office from 1107 
Market street to the Denckla Building on the corner, Mr. Allen 
lingered on and on, seeming loath to take leave of his old quarters. 
He sat musing for a time, doubtless reviewing the plans that had 
been conceived there that had borne such wonderful fruit. 

I have also been told that he had been saved more than once 
from being knocked down by some vehicle while crossing the street, 
totally oblivious of the danger around him while his keen mind was 
battling with some weighty problem of business. 

It was his general custom to take the 12:25 train from North 
Penn Junction back to the city office after his trip to the plant. 
I have quite often seen him dally over the drawing board until 
almost the very last minute in order to make a suggestion, then 
dash out to the elevator, hurry into the street and rush for the 
waiting train. Quite often the conductor would see him hurrying 
across the Fifth street bridge, and would accommodatingly hold 
his train a minute or two until Mr. Allen was safely aboard. 

Should those who knew him not, query, "What measure of 
success did Samuel L. Allen achieve in this life?" one might lead 



them down to that little workshop on the New Jersey farm where 
the "Planet Jr." tool first saw the light of day, thence back to the 
large group of up-to-date buildings standing at Fifth street and 
Glenwood avenue, wherein are produced agricultural implements 
that are used to cultivate the ground in all parts of the world, and 
turning to the questioners one could answer, "There stands the 
monument that signifies seventy-seven years of ceaseless activity 
upon the part of one man" — a monument to the memory of Samuel 
Leeds Allen. 

M. L. Collins, one of our salesmen from Fond du Lac, 
Wisconsin, wrote me: 

As we take a look at the old discarded implements in the back 
of a poorly kept hardware store and see in the junk heap an old 
horse hoe of forty or fifty years ago, we wonder who would use one 
like it today, cumbersome and heavy with scarcely any adjustments 
and no wheel. We look at the steels and shovels ; then the days of 
our boyhood come back as if in a dream, and we recall how our back 
ached at night and how our feet ached from trying to kick the dirt 
off the shovels that would never scour. We wondered then if 
someone would make a horse hoe that would lessen the burden of 
the boy who had to cultivate the crops on hot summer days when he 
wished to go fishing. After a time the man did come and made a 
tool that lessened the burden of the boy. 

It was such a beautiful horse hoe, so strong, neat and light, had 
a wheel, levers for easy adjustments, and such beautiful hard 
steels and shovels, they scoured on the first row and looked like 
burnished mirrors. The boy with the new machine does not want 
to go fishing, neither does the horse, for, compared with the past, 
to cultivate now with an up-to-date horse hoe is a pleasure, and we 
wonder if the boy of today stops to think who has done so much for 
him over the boy of forty or fifty years ago, or who was the man 
who toiled so hard to help in the advancement of mankind. This 
good benefactor gave his whole life to making the work of the 
tiller of the soil easier and better. He shortened the hours of the 
laborer, and increased the crop yield by the tools he invented. 
The man was S. L. Allen, who recently passed away — one of the 
captains of industry. 



Alexander B. Sweigert has been with S. L. Allen & 
Company for twenty-three years, and his article ex- 
presses the strong influence my father radiated: 

April 18th, 1918. 
To Mrs. Samuel L. Allen and Family: — 

You asked me to write something personal of Mr. Allen, but 
there is so much I could tell I can't remember anything that stands 
out distinctly. All my life, except my school days, has been passed in 
the employ of S. L. Allen & Company. I started in as the proverbial, 
tricky office boy, who thinks he is indispensable, and have been 
promoted until now — when I am sent out as one of the firm's 
representatives, a pinnacle which when I was that office boy looked 
like the impossible. I am proud to say that this is the first and only 
position I have ever had. I want to add just a personal, heartfelt 
tribute to the memory of a great and good man. 

Having in mind one of the world's greatest poems, how when you 
have read it, it seems to open wide its floodgates, and an enriching 
river of inspiration and instruction is the result, blessing every 
vale of literature until its beauty changes the valleys and moun- 
tains, and the children of men reap its benefits, and are led to walk 
in the ways of a higher and a better life ; so like that poem, knowing 
Samuel Leeds Allen's life is an inspiration and guide to nobler 

His life becomes to us a mighty example which cannot help but 
transform the common and base things of our daily toil into treas- 
ures beyond the price of shining gold. His kindness and simplicity 
overarch all. What blessings he has given to the tillers of the soil, 
when from that fertile brain came the "Planet Jr." inventions, 
lessening their labors a hundred-fold, and how many childish hearts 
are made happy in the possession of a cherished "Flexible Flyer" 

We look backward to his struggles, his strivings and longings, 
his battle with the forces which wove his destiny, until finally he 
was rewarded with success. We all loved him — loved his ways, 
loved the gentle heart and manner of Mr. Allen; and the cheering 
hospitality of our friend lives forever in our hearts. Reverence and 



love and tears — all these connect us with his beautiful memory. 
His right hand of friendship gripped ours always as "friend." 
The "fatherhood of God" and the "brotherhood of man," which he 
so supremely taught and lived, has left a heritage to us to be re- 
membered until each one of us shall have passed away to the "Great 
Beyond"; and because of these supreme lessons daily needed in 
our living, lessons that shall inspire us to do something, that shall 
be full of tenderness, sympathy and love — something that shall be 
noble and good, something so human that it shall be divine until 
the call is heard, and like Mr. Allen we shall 

So live, that when our summons comes to join 
The innumerable caravan which moves 
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take 
His chamber in the silent halls of death, 
We go not, like the quarry-slave at night, 
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed 
By an unfaltering trust, approach our graves 
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 

I am greatly indebted to each one who has written us 
of my father, either spontaneously after his death or 
later by request, and I wish it were possible to quote all 
the beautiful sentiments his life has inspired. In closing 
these chapters, I will include portions that show the 
impression my father made on those who knew him, 
whether slightly or through the association of years. 

Regarding his thoughtfulness for others: 

"Now here is an anecdote that is very characteristic of Samuel 
L. Allen and of the Allen family, and shows his ready sympathy 
for those, in trouble. There was "a man who was always late in 
paying his bills, and in looking over the books one day Samuel 
found this man had owed him sixty dollars for two or three years. 
Samuel thought it was time that this should stop and sat down and 
wrote him he had been waiting a long time, and if the bill were not 
paid it would have to be collected. The man paid the bill and two 
weeks later failed. Samuel was much surprised and wondering 



if bis demand was the last straw that had caused it, wrote a second 
time expressing regret for his financial difficulties, and returned the 
sixty dollars." * * * 

" In the thirty years I have been obliged to live on without my 
dear one, he was ever thoughtful and considerate, appreciating as 
few others appeared to the many cares and responsibilities that de- 
volved on me. An incident that stands out most vividly was when 
I went abroad with three of my children and a few others, he gave 
me a 'ship letter' to be read when we sighted land. I was deeply 
touched on reading it for he said he had admired my courage 
through the years, and now my pluck in going abroad, and he took 
pleasure in placing a sum of money to my credit to help defray 

"To carry such heavy business responsibilities with constant 
invention almost up to the last, without allowing his mind to be 
absorbed in these was a rare quality, while his attention to the 
amenities and courtesies of the home circle caused him to shine as 
a Christian gentleman." * * * 

This is another: 

"If I can keep alive in myself some of his thoughtfulness for 
others, in the years to come I may in that way repay him." 

From a letter in my father's desk: 

" It is a good thing for me that I am an optimist because so many 
things have happened in my life that would have broken the spirit 
of most men. Your letter received tonight is an illustration of the 
'silver lining.' I cannot express in words how deeply appreciative 
I am of your great kindness. It is such an unusual thing to do, 
therefore it is more expressive of 'good will toward men' than 
anything that has ever before happened to me." 

Regarding his influence on young men: 

" How fine it would be for a young man such as myself to take 
Mr. Allen's life as an example, and live up to everything noble for 
which he stood." * * * 



"I shall always remember Mr. Allen as a man of unusual sterling 
qualities and a man whose life has been an inspiration to his fellow 
men. It was some twenty or more years ago that I first met Mr. 
Allen, in a business way, while I was yet 'young,' and at that 
time I was strongly impressed with his high standard of business 
honor and clean-cut acumen. I personally know and feel that this 
man's high moral character and the example set in my early 
association with him influenced me as a young man to ideals that 

I have ever since strived to attain but never quite succeeded to." 

* * * 

" I think I can remember Cousin Samuel as long as I can remem- 
ber anyone. I shall never forget as a boy, how he interested me 
with his joyous and enthusiastic manner of doing things. Truly, 
with great unostentation his was a most useful life. I think I 
have never known anyone less exclusive and selfish; no one more 
ready to help along in any cause likely to help the neighbors as 
well as intimate friends. The fragrance of his memory is with us 
and will linger long." 

Regarding him as a man : 

* * * " We feel one of our best has been taken from works to 
rewards, a true friend and ever helpful citizen. We mourn with 
you, and ask who can take his place?" * * * 

"He was one of the marked men of our generation and time alone 
will show fully how large a place he filled among us." * * * 

" I can remember no time when in our home circle Cousin Samuel 
was not regarded as one of unusual powers. As I came to know 
him better and was favored with his friendship, my feeling for him 
ripened into veneration. This was because he used his powers of 
invention for the world's good, because he did it unostentatiously, 
and because he never let his powers of mind outgrow his powers of 
heart." * * * 

"It is a fine heritage, yours, and you should be justly proud. Real 
men do more than just exist on this earth, for lives like the one 
spent by your honored father surely live down through the ages." 



Regarding him as a father: 

" It is a privilege beyond value to have had a father spared to one 
through the tender childhood years, when counsel and advice and 
parental direction mean so much to one's success and happiness in 
after life; but to have had a father until one has grown to manhood 
or womanhood, when the full power of the adult mind enables one 
not only to enjoy but fully to appreciate this great blessing — all 
this is wonderful indeed. 

"What then must we say when, having possessed these riches, 
one has had in addition an illustrious father, a man who was a 
leader and who gave to the world so much that added to the real 
riches of mankind? Truly such honor comes to few. 

"The loss of such a man is great indeed and long will be the time 
before his place is filled; but one must remember that he was here 
with his family and friends 'a long day,' and his going is not 
separation, he only precedes them, which is as it should be; and 
it seems that it will be easier for us all to say good-bye to the world 
when we know that father and mother are not left behind, but 
waiting for us to join them, at home." 



I THINK my father was always interested in fishing, 
for rods were included in the traveling outfit from the 
first trip to Parksburg in 1885, when the party was 
caught in a heavy rain in New York. In an old letter 
I find that Grandfather Allen asked if they were pre- 
pared, and to the reply "they had fishing poles and 
umbrellas," he said with his merry laugh, "I think they 
were the fish that were caught." 

The proprietor of the house there was so impressed 
with father's character that he wrote the following 
little verse : 

Sam Allen, Sam Allen, 

I'm glad that I met ye; 
I shall not, I'm sure, in this 

Life forget ye; 
Manly and honest, and life 

Pure as snow, 
May God's grace attend ye. 

Wherever ye go. 

During our last years at Ivystone my father became 
interested in making his own split bamboo rods, and 
this was a laborious and painstaking operation. He 
bought bamboo canes and split them, and at a work- 
bench in our dining-room he heated, straightened and 
glued together from two to five strips of the hard, shiny 
outside surface for each joint. Then they were clamped 
together until the glue had thoroughly set. 



Next they were unwrapped and dressed to a gradu- 
ated taper from the heavy butt to the slender tip, so 
that in casting or retrieving a fish, the spring of the 
rod made one perfect curve without an inch of straight 
unyielding surface the entire length. Each joint had 
its individual taper that formed its part of the complete 
whole. One rod often had two sets of joints and tips for 
the same butt, so that a bait or casting rod was quickly 
assembled and the minimum space required for travel- 
ing. At first my father put the final delicate silk wrap- 
pings on his rods, but in later years he sent them to 
Charles F. Orvis, Manchester, Vt. If he used bait it 
was more to see if the fish were there and would rise 
than for the sake of catching them, and to study from 
the way the fish took the bait and the manner his flies 
alighted on the water what was needed to make them as 
attractive as the bait. 

Soon after my father's death Alexander C. Wood 
wrote the following for me; but how little we thought 
that in less than a year he, too, would be called to his 
Heavenly home : 

I shall miss Samuel L. Allen very much; we were congenial 
in may ways. He was always stimulating, his active mind being 
fertile with views as to ways of improving conditions and things. 

During our various outings together we had opportunities for 
pleasant fellowship and the consideration of many subjects. We 
were both fond of fishing and I have a lively recollection of a trip 
we made to Newfoundland for salmon fishing. 

Our train stopped at a platform in the wilderness, ourselves and 
our bags were put off, when up walked a sturdy man who intro- 
duced himself by saying : "I am Nichols," our expected guide. We 
stayed over night with him, and took boats many miles up the 
Humber river to the "Great Falls," where we camped and had 



good sport catching salmon, and also in watching the fish trying 
to jump the falls in their efforts to go up the river. We counted as 
high as 55 fish a minute jumping, a very small proportion of them 
succeeding in getting up. After enjoying a few days there we 
returned, stopping at Halifax to see some friends, then on home. 

Our companionship on these trips was close, and strengthened 
our friendship which I always prized. Our friend was a stimulating 
influence with whatever he was connected and his removal by death 
is a public loss. His inventions have been and are a help to thou- 
sands in many lands. 

In 1891 my father began a fishing diary and there are 
a number of entries the next eight years. These usually 
include a summary of the trip, as to the cause that made 
it a success or otherwise, and what might be better 
another time and why. Some of these are included to give 
an idea of the exceeding care he took in every detail 
of this delicately fascinating and most uncertain sport: 

Seventh Month 4th, 1891. 
Went to Moosehead Lake, Maine, and had the greatest fishing 
I ever saw for trout. Best days caught 60. Forty would do to 
keep, ranging from % lb. to 1 lb., 8' or 8J4' rod. 

My mother and cousins Barclay R. and Mary M. 
Leeds were in the party and several camping -fishing 
trips were made during their two weeks' stay. One 
day when father was off with a guide he wrote: 

Ate our supper by candle-light, the "stick" being made by 
sharpening a flat splint of wood and driving it into a horizontal 
cut made in the side of the house, the candle then being melted fast. 
It was just over our table. 

We got through breakfast and started down stream about 
8.30 a.m. The flies were getting worse all the time. It seemed as 
if they might smell the deer meat. Whenever we stopped, we built 
a smudge, and I tried nets and tar oil, but was terribly bitten : an 
inch wide band across my forehead, a solid mass of bites . Nets seem 



of little use and are much bother. The best thing seems to be to 
use tar oil copiously while in motion and lots of smudges while in 

I caught about 80 speckled trout, put back about 40. Did not 
know how to hook them or would have got more. Rod too long 
and heavy for canoe. A 9' for a man and 8J^' for a lady is enough. 
For other work a 10' rod would be right. 

The trout fishing is generally in rough or quick water, so that 
often to cast over 15' is necessary, the average cast probably not 
being far from 15'; not once in ten times casting over 30' and not 
once probably, if any advantage, to cast 40' of reel line. Poling up 
rapids is hard work, and but little fishing could be done. 

Arranged with Joe to take me again down the West Outlet and 
on to the East and there go down Indian pond and up Indian 
stream, down to the dam, etc. — to take 4 days. Got out our list 
of camp supplies over night. 

Seventh Month 9th. 

Started about 8 a.m. and went over same ground, taking dinner 
at Joe's camp, without going up to the house. Went on down 2 or 
3 miles and camped on a bluff ledge. It was a cold place and we 
almost froze in the night. Joe had a chill. We found a white frost 
on our table next morning. We saw a young wolf the time before, 
and on both visits saw a number of deer. Fishing not quite so good 
and we hurried along faster. 

Seventh Month 10th. 

Reached the East Outlet and had excellent fishing there, larger 
and more gamy. Did the best at the big rocks and boulders which 
stemmed the currents, though perhaps entirely under the surface. 

Two or three miles brought us to the dam. The fishing there 
was of no account. I shot a large cock partridge on the way up. 
Saw a number of broods of young ducks. When frightened, the 
parent flew and ran over or on the water at a great rate, followed 
by the half-grown, at equal speed. We had a lunch when we got 
out of the canoe; the "piece de resistance" was a can of Huckin's 
tomato soup. Joe punched a hole in it, then emptied it into our 
birch bark basins and then broke a couple of raw eggs into each. 
It was very good. 



Half a mile of the walk to Indian stream dam was upon logs 
felled end to end for use when the water was high, the trail being 
the one used by the log drivers. The logs were worn partially 
level on top by the spikes in the driver's shoes. Would not come 
again without high shoes, good ones, with small nails in soles. 
Might be calf-skin or rubber. 

After dinner rested a half -hour and went on to camp, had a cup 
of coffee about 4 p.m., put on the partridge to stew and soon after 
went a mile and a half down to the fishing ground at the outlet 
junction. There off the west bank of the point and from sunken 
rocks, not far away, we caught a lot of nice good-sized trout, 
staying till after sundown. Then we went to camp, and started up 
our stew, adding potatoes, etc. It was late when we were ready for 
the meal, and we enjoyed it very much. Slept warm and better. 
We were so cold the night before that Joe provided against it this 
time, suddenly stopping the canoe at the bank and getting out; 
and going quickly to a 10' birch he climbed up a few feet, slit 
it down the side with his knife and took off a piece of bark about 
6' x 30" and some shorter pieces. These he put under us to keep 
away the cold from the ground. 

Another time the whole party was out for three days" 
of great enjoyment. A few notes follow and the in- 
evitable conclusions: „ xl „ ,,,„., 

Seventh Month 17th. 

Soon after a good breakfast we moved up 3 or 4 miles to a ledge 
where there was some very good fishing for so late in the season. 
Barclay and Mary started on ahead of us and went up Williams 
stream and got very close to a wild deer, so that they could see the 
white of her eyes. We had a grand dinner: fried fish, broiled ham, 
fried deer steak, fried pork, biscuit, bread, French fried potatoes, 
finishing with excellent flapjacks. 

Then went on to the North East carry and wandered around 
till the boat came and there we met Harry Williams and party, 
3 men and 2 women, 4 or 5 guides. They were well fixed and would 
have a grand time I should imagine. Arrived at Kineo House in 
time for supper. Got to bed in good time after engaging Joe and 
Crawford to take us, Sallie and me, to the West Outlet. 



Seventh Month 17th. 

Started about 8 a.m., Joe ahead. We soon crossed the lake and 
had a few rises at the entrance. Went down over the dam and soon 
had plenty of fun and fishing. At dinner each had put back half 
and Sallie at noon had 23 and 1, 15. At evening, Sallie had 32 and 
I, 34. She learned to fish well and with Joe and the head canoe 
had an excellent chance. Had good dinner again, I repaired each 
broken rod, and we got back to the hotel exactly at the end of a 
fine sunset. 

Packed partially that night. The clerk said our catch was the 
best that week. 

Seventh Month 18th. 

Got up and went to moderately early breakfast. No card on 
fish so did not have them for us. The largest were not much over 
Yl lb. Did not average over J4 lb. Sallie had 5 braces of fish and 
landed 3 pairs. Plenty of them but smaller. Whole catch must 
have been 100 or over, besides 10 or 20 chub. 

Bangor, Seventh Month 19th. 

Breakfast about 9, went to Field's church and had a sermon on 
kindness; very good. Reached home safely, tired, sleepy, happy, 
at 11.25 p.m. The most delightful two weeks' outing we ever had. 

Fob Canoe Fishing 

For canoe fishing 8' to 8J^' is plenty long enough for a rod, 
weight about 5 oz. For general fishing I think 9J^' plenty or 10 
the limit. With same amount of practice think a shortish rod will 
cast the farthest, rather stiff for all purposes. It was so windy 
I shortened my rod and got it most too stiff 9'5". But I don't 
like to have any one say it is too windy, therefore want a stiffish 

My flies were the right size; you don't want anything heavier 
than an E line, flies not too close together. If two, 4' apart, if 
three, 3' apart, if only 2', they will seem in a bunch and in long 
casts will double over on the line. First dropper short gut, 2nd 
long gut. 




Would order about as below, hooks No. 7 same as I had. 
6 Parmachenee Belle 6 Silver Doctor 6 Black Hackle 

6 Montreal 2 White Miller 2 Brown Hackle 

6 Red Ibis 2 Coachman 3 Grey Hackle 

3 Black Moosehead 4 Ashey Hackle 

2 Seth Green 4 Army Worm 

2 Jenny Lind 2 Red Hackle 

2 Ferguson 5 dozen 

2 Professor 

Ninth Month 20th, 1893. 

* * * At Graters Ford, Pa., caught on black Palmer with 
red body, black with bronze green body and black Moosehead 
flies. The Palmers alight beautifully, lightly, and I believe the black 
hackles with yellow, red, and green bodies and other hackles on 6' leader, 
h\z apart, 2' Bethabara rod, silk covered, with very light side-long 
cast; not less than Jfi', better 50' and to angle of 4-5°, the proper thing. 

Slow light casts, not hard. Then leave the fly till it settles well and 
draw it slowly. Cast a straight line or else it is necessary to retrieve 

I had 2 rises from a good fish, could see the waves very plainly; 
but striking a la Henshall "as soon as you see the rise," he did not 
get hold. He refused to rise again, but J4 hour later I made a 
slow careful cast and retrieve and got him. They all took the fly 
very quietly, I scarcely felt them. 

Graters Ford, Sixth Month 29th, 1894. 

3.38 p.m. to 7.54 a.m. In evening caught 1 small bass and 1 
sunfish on riffle. Got to work in the morning too late, 5.10. 
Worked down along side the island and on beyond the point to 
the deeper parts of riffle before getting anything; but soon got 4 
nice bass, lj^ lb. chub and a sunfish. Lost a very heavy one, which 
really made the line "hiss" and then was gone. I afterward found 
the hook broken off below the barb, but think it was done by this 
fish. I judge he was a 2 pounder. The Alexandra fly, and it seemed 
the best. 



If I had to select 6 or 8 flies, I would take them thus: Young, 
Alexandra, Abbey, Black Moosehead, the Black Pennell Hackle, 
and a Black Pennell with light yellow body, ribbed with red. 

I would start at the riffle and work down half way between the 
2 points of rock by 6 p.m., then spend % hour in riffle again and 
then start in and spend Yl hour or less above the riffle at the town 
and then work on down clear past the bridge by 8 p.m. 

In the a.m. work the upper riffle till 5.30 or till it is exhausted 
then pass rapidly down on left side to lower riffle. 

The rod works beautifully, except top ferrule of handle is loose : 
will get that tightened and perhaps a tube put in the socket to 
screw on by, and then screw on with a little cement. 

The 3. line is the right size. No. 5 sproat hooks right; should 
have good large dressing. Should cast far, except in rough water 
and always accurately and lightly. 

Learned to make a cast perfectly at right angle and to cast 5' 
farther or more by using a loop of line at the hand to help out with. 
Also found casting across and retrieving slowly as the flies swept 
down, the thing. Also not to cast directly over a fish. 

Seventh Month 2d, 1895. 

About this date went to Santa Catalina Island from Los Angeles 
via San Pedro. Arrived about 12. After dinner went out in naphtha 
launch without success. Next morning went out again, with Mr. 
Huiskamp from Michigan. He and I had better success. He 
hooked a yellow tail and I a 4 lb. bass. Then I hooked a yellow 
tail and he a barracuda. Mine about 10 lbs. He then got an 
18 lb. yellow tail, and I later hooked a tuna, but he soon broke 
loose with 200' of line. Good sport, but hard work. Want a 
tarpon outfit though lighter. 

Eight Month 7th, 1896. 

Fished in Stockbridge Bowl from 4.15 to 7.45 p.m. Not much 
success with fly, though elegant water with weeds and just right 
depth, etc. Caught 6 rock bass and with a No. 2 black hackle, 
orange body with 40' line out, we turned our boat and as we swung 
around a large bass took the fly, though it was the dropper, and 
after a tremendous struggle, I landed or boated him ; small mouth 



3% lbs. full. The heavier rod is just right, though for this heavy 
fish should have had short tip perhaps. Charlie caught one trolling 
with frog, 2^ lbs. Best way here is probably frog casting, though 
would like to try trolling with flies with one rod and casting with 
flies with other. 

Sampson's Lake View House, Lake Champlain. 
Eighth Month 22d, 1896. 

Up at 3 a.m. At bar by 4 a.m. Caught 8 or 10 fish, smallish. 
Largest, 3j/£ lbs., by Charlie. Walked a mile on the edge of the 
lake and fished with flies, having a dozen rises and taking 6 or 8 fish 
— 1 bass, 2 perch, 3 or 4 chub. 

After dinner tried the bar, no success; went to the west of 
Diadama Island, no success; then to the bluffs of Butler Island 
where, from 6 to 7.30, we had great success, hooking perhaps 12 
bass, losing 5 or 6. Then later we caught nearly 2 dozen perch. 
One of those lost was probably a 3 pounder. Altogether we found 
the fishing poor. A few days ago they were catching a great many 
fish to average 2 lbs. each. 

I think fly fishing might be made to pay even though they 
claim the 1st week in the 7th month the best time. Would like to 
try it then. I think black flies the best, red and yellow bodies not 
quite so heavy as I sometimes have taken them. 

Minnows are good bait now, but crickets are preferred. They 
say use flies, early, then grasshoppers and later crickets, No. 1 
and No. 1-0 hooks, sproat. Fly rods most too light. Just the thing 
would be my 6J4' rod with another joint making 8J^' or so. 
The best season here is about the 10th of Seventh Month, or say, 
the first two weeks in this month for bait fishing. They do not 
like casting the minnow as it kills the bait; but I believe good 
casting, especially with frogs, etc., would be good indeed. From 
their practice here, it would seem that an hour or two before and 
after sunrise and sunset are the best times to fish, corresponding 
exactly with fly fishing times. 

While we had quite poor success, some of the other guests have 
done very well indeed; and we saw a fisherman yesterday morning 
who had caught on the bar the night before after a heavy all-day 



blow a 7 or 8 lb. fish. A week ago Mr. Brayton here caught 79 
fish averaging 2 lbs., in 3 days' fishing, going out 5 times; most of 
them on Wood's Island bar, early morning and afternoon fishing. 
The proprietor said this was correct and that one catch of 8 
weighed 21 lbs. Also said his card showed true catches, most of 
them in one season. The best time used to be May and September, 
but under the new law they consider that this month is the best, 
though they find good fishing until Ninth Month 15th, once in 
awhile later. 

I think a 6' 4" casting rod, three joints, could have an additional 
joint making it 8' 3", would be just the thing for Champlain fishing. 
The handle should be 10" reversible, the reel end to fit the 6' 4" and 
other the 8' 3". 

For fly fishing my heavy 9' 6", with short tip and E line is all 
right in windy weather, but I like an F line mostly. 

I handled and landed the 3^1b. small mouth entirely satis- 
factorily with my 9' 6" full length tip, but I think the short tip a 
little better. 

Grater's Ford, Ninth Month 14th, 1896. 

I used my light bass or boat rod; first rate for F line and No. 5 
hackle on point and No. 2 dropper, but not satisfactory with 
E fine or heavy flies. I believe my heavier rod stiffened a little 
perhaps, by reducing tip 2" with an E fine and 3 flies, lightest 
for the point fly, 9' leader, would be a good combination. Cast 
from 40 to 45 ft. 

The 3 flies would take out 5' extra line and it should be retrieved 
slowly, and in deep water very slowly, by first raising up the rod 
and then drop the point and recover the slack with the left hand 
and draw again. Spend energy only on good water and skip all 
barren water. 

I think about No. 4 sproat best size. Pennell hackles very full, 
with fluffy orange bodies, bound with red, or red with orange, 
want full in body, and hackle, but light. I so often fail to hook a 
good fish and find the point of the hook dull or bent, that I believe 
all new hooks should be dressed sharper and blunter, and all hooks 
examined when put on the leader, and occasionally while in use 
on the fine. 



I feel sure, too, that while Shipley recommended No. 5 to me, 
that it is quite too small, except for very small fish or in very 
shallow water, say M to % lb. fish. From 1 lb. up use from No. 4 
to No. 2. Generally the latter, unless dressed very full. 

I have lost too many good fish from broken barbs and points. 
Large fish, too, are generally in deep water and need a conspicuous 
object, and I doubt whether it isn't an advantage to make a little 
splash. In fishing in Stockbridge Bowl with frogs, the fisherman 
told us that anything to make a big splash was the thing, yet, on 
the contrary, I have often thought that when the flies feel softly 
and just right, was when I was most sure of a rise. 

New York Tournament from 1-15 to l-22-'98, and a great many 
events. I spent the 22nd there. Became acquainted with 
Leonard and Hawes, and Hewitt, the former professionals. All 
good casters but the latter two most graceful and the former most 
effective. The latter did not retrieve with such a strong jerk as 

Leonard stopped his rod at an angle of about 30 degrees on back 
cast and 20 degrees on front, putting great vim in it and forcing 
the spring of the rod to do the rest. He would commence with 
short casts, say 70' and in about 5 casts would work up to a big 
one, then draw in and commence over again. Used a 10-oz. 12' 
rod and C line tapered 18' to E, and 20' of leader and 1 fly. They 
say that is right for tournament and also for switch in actual 
fishing. The switch requires a heavy line, but is best for most 
work. Hawes said he used it 9 out of 10 times in fishing. He 
showed it to us, drew back all he could and threw a small loop 
behind him and then threw it over with a swish, after letting fall 
an instant on the floor. The fine also rested a moment on the 
floor in the other casts. It would seem that a 25 -yard line D 
tapered at each end to F, would be just what I would want, the 
taper 18 feet. 

Hawes said he fished mostly for bass and preferred leaders 9' to 
12' and two No. 4 flies not less than 5' apart. Did not like the 
fly too near the end of the line. I would like 9' leader with fly 
loop 5' to 6' apart. D line tapered to F 18'. Want heavy line 
for switch and for distance. Preferred 11^' r °d for bass, 6 to 



8 oz. Could draw in so much longer; the bass waits for fly to 
sink and then follows so long. Prefers 2 oz. for trout. Said he 
was not strong enough to use as heavy rods as Leonard. 

May's Landing, 1898. 

Alexander C. Wood, Thomas Scattergood and myself went down 
on the 10th, 3.20 train. They took one boat and I another with 
Harry Moore (?) for boatman. Got up to fishing grounds about 
6 o'clock, and by dusk they had 6 and I 8 pike. Started next 
morning about 6.20 and by noon they had 29 and I 27. Dined at 
Mayer's run. After dinner they caught 9 and 16. I lost 3 good 
ones with tackle. Used fly rod, most too light. Want another 
butt joint rod, making 9'. I caught 40 and they 44. Total 
weight about 45 lbs. Half should have been thrown back and 
we need not have fished so long; (taken) more noon, etc. 

Think my 7' casting rod with an additional butt to make it 9' 
would be just right. Then use fly reel and line and perhaps 3' 
leader and 2 or 3, J^ oz. aluminum sinkers, 1' apart, just the thing. 
Made a lot of aluminum sinkers, }/$ oz. each about size of J^ oz. 
lead, being a little less than }4, as heavy. 

About Fourth Month 10th Stogdell Stokes caught a 10" trout 
at a bridge on the Milford road, near Milford. 

About Fifth Month 1st Thomas K. Brown caught 4 trout in a 
Chester County stream, not very far from W. B. S. from about 

my 2 " to io^". 

The latter has written me : 

Just when Samuel Allen and I began to talk fishing I cannot 
remember, but this was our next common interest and it is the one 
in which I have always felt that I made the greatest contribution 
to his pleasure. I had been a fisherman all my life. I loved the 
sport and believed in it as few of his other friends did. I could 
make intelligent, and at times helpful suggestions about the rods 
which he was making. At one time he had received two sample 
rods from Orvis, which he wished to test with some of his own 
making, and he invited me over to help in the trial. We took them 
out on the lawn, he using his own rod, I the best of the others, 



and my rod got the line out some three feet further than his. We 
changed rods, to see if the difference lay in our casting, but no, 
the Orvis rod was still ahead. Then an idea came to me. "Samuel 
Allen," I said, " I think thy line is too light for this rod, a heavier 
one might carry better." "There is something in that," he 
answered, and produced another reel with a larger line upon it. 
The change was quickly made, and sure enough, it picked up five 
feet, and clearly overthrew the best that the other rod could do. 
He was greatly pleased, not so much because it proved his own rod 
to be the better as because he felt the rod was now really doing 
its best. 

I can remember actually fishing with him but twice, once as he 
and his family stopped a week or so at Back Log Camp on Lake 
George in 1896, and again on an afternoon's bicycle trip to Kirby's 
Dam near Medford. In '98 or '99 Samuel Allen presented me with 
one of the fly rods which he had made. It was an excellent one, 
much the best that I had ever used, and I did good work with it 
for three years, when I broke one of the joints in trying to pull my 
hook out of a bunch of weeds. I tried unsuccessfully to mend it and 
then laid it aside. During last winter I got it out, made a successful 
splice, and I am expecting to use it this summer. It will carry 
with it the fragrance of many memories. 

J. Henry Scattergood, son of Thomas Scattergood, a 
lifelong friend of my father, wrote to mother after 
father's death and later by request told of this fishing 

* * * I like especially to think of him in connection with the 
delightful fishing trip to Rideau Canal in Canada, when he and 
Alexander Wood and father, with Alexander Jr., and myself, had 
a fishing cruise on the "Amorita." We all enjoyed the outing im- 
mensely and thy father entered into the spirit of it with enthusiasm. 
He especially enjoyed casting, at which he was an expert, and it 
gave us pleasure to watch him. I can see him now, casting with 
bait, with a long throw to some old stump to entice a big-mouthed 
bass, generally known as "swegos." Again, he would cast with a 



fly close over to shore, from the shore side of the boat, while the 
rest of us would be fishing on the other side of the boat in deeper 
water. He always enjoyed this casting for small fish more than in 
the still water for larger ones. He was on this trip, as always, a 
delightful companion and an interesting conversationalist. 

Canadian Rockies, Seventh Month, 1899. 

Good fishing above Banff in Bow river and at Banff, in Bow and 
Sprey, when water is low. Too high when we were there. Say 
fishing is splendid at Nelson. Certainly the Kootenay was one of 
the finest rivers I ever saw, and hundreds of small fish could be seen 
rising at once. 

Ninth Month 1st, 1898. 

Charlie and I went to Kineo, Me., and took the Allegash and 
St. John rivers trip by canoes, about 185 miles. 8-28 First Day. 
Left Kineo in special little steamer at 8 :14 a.m. with two canvas- 
covered canoes, and guides Joe Murray and Will Butler. 

Beached North East carry about 10.45 and Charles and I walked 
across the two miles, while the canoes and duffle were hauled over. 
We left the carry about 12 and got dinner two miles down at a 
regular Camping ground. Fine beefsteak and buttered toast. 

On the way saw two deer, does, the last walked down the bank 
and then swam the river 75 yds. ahead of us. Saw two black 
ducks, one within easy shot. Also small snipe, kingfishers and a 
large heron. 

Beds of balsam are new and good, but we made ours fuller, and 
went to bed before 8 with 7 blankets over and 6 under us. Charles 
took off flannel shirt and slept in sweater; I in flannel shirt, but 
was too cool around neck. None too warm. Tonight will try 
sweater and put up collar and pin over forehead. (Did not.) 

Eighth Month 29th. 

Up at 5.30, breakfast nearly ready. Had boiled potatoes, fried 
eggs, bacon, toast and coffee. Under way at 7. Saw two deer, 
6 ducks, and some small snipe. Met three canoes returning to 
Kineo. Shot one duck. 



Stopped for dinner at lumber camp two miles up the Ambezoo- 
kans; near a fine spring. A high wind helped us so much that we 
are 2 miles ahead of usual time; stopping at 11.30. 

Eighth Month 31st. 

Up about 5.30 and off to fish in Snare's Brook. Saw 5 deer 
yesterday, and this morning saw 10 deer, 1 caribou and a fine fat 
cow moose in a little pond. She dove down after lily roots, so 
that we got within 40 yds., quite as close as Joe Murray cared to 
go, as she seemed as likely to turn upon us as to run away. But 
she finally decided to hurry off. She was as fat as butter; round 
and smooth; looked much like a horse and trotted like one. Got 
no trout. 

Charlie went after deer and shot at 4, 5 shots; no game. Back 
about 9. I got 3 birch partridges, nice as chickens. Breakfast 
about 9.30, dinner about 12.30; then off to Thoroughfare brook. 
Caught about a dozen trout. Brought home 9. Charlie caught all 
but 2. I had hold of a 2 pounder, and two others, which we lost. 
Used Parmachenee Belle and Black P. Hackle, scarlet body. Seemed 
to prefer the black hackle, though Charlie did well with Montreal, 
purple hackle. 

Ninth Month 1st. 

Loons calling. Not a cloud; just a breath of air. Trout for 
supper, partridges for breakfast, got off at 7. A lovely paddle down 
the 23^ miles of river. Saw 5 deer, shot one; about 50 yards. 
First shot too high. Deer scarcely moved. Second shot too high, 
but stopped him. Fine fat 1 yr. buck. Had shot at two dipper 
ducks and saw four black, which shot at, 100 yds. away. Shot 
down one dipper, but he dove and we lost him. 

Joe told deer stories, etc., so did not go to bed till 9.30. Head of 
bough bed too low so put a 6 in. log under and it made the best we 
have had. Probably two 5" logs better. 

Ninth Month 2nd. 

Up at 6 and went right to the carry. Fish not rising much. I 
again caught 7 and Charlie 2. Last evening, Charlie caught largest, 
% lb. This a.m. I caught largest 1J4 lbs. scant. 



Made seat front of fire, driving into the ground three 1%" stakes, 
then nailing a top to them. Guess 3 small ones in between would 
be better, high, but without tops, so as to just fit the back. 

A nice trip would be up the Penobscot and down the St. John 
to 7 islands, then a 12-mile carry across to lower end of Long lake. 

Joe says best fishing is in 6th and 7th months. Eighth month no 
good; ninth month 15th about the best. There have been no flies 
to bother us this trip, and Joe says there have been none for 2 
weeks. Our clothing, etc., is too much. We want about as follows, 
apiece : 

2 rods, light fly, 9^ ft. 1 sweater 

3 leaders, 24 flies, 12 enough 2 hats 

1 gun, 50 cartridges or rifle 1 gum overcoat 
20 heavy 80 light cartridges 4 handkerchiefs 

2 pairs shoes 4 collars 

3 pairs blankets 2 pairs cuffs 

1 gum blanket 1 large piece rubber cloth 

2 flies court plaster 
2 pairs woolen stockings shoe strings 

1 pair gum boots comb and brush 

2 suits woolen underwear tooth brush 

2 suits clothes pins and safety pins 

Through dinner at 1.45. Hot biscuit, Johnny cake, trout 
chowder and custard desert, made with five eggs, condensed milk 
and sugar, set in two condensed milk cans and one tin cup : excellent ! 

To make your bed, have 5 birch logs, about 5 ft. long and 4" 
diameter, bottom log better 10" or 12" for seat, and arrange in 
square, thus, just the size over all of a double blanket. Then' 
place fir boughs all over them, the two upper logs to be the pillow; 
the boughs to be 3 in. thick when pressed down. The head to rest 
in the slight hollow remaining between the logs. 

Boughs to be in layers, laid from head down, butts toward foot. 
Pleasant to he against logs at side, so bed might be better 3'6" 
wide only. 

To date (Ninth month 6th) 39 deer, 2 cow moose, 1 caribou. 



Ninth Month 7th. 

Did not put fly over tent, left rods outside. Early in the morning, 
probably 4 o'clock, it began to rain. I went out and brought in 
rods, fixed tent for rain, went to bed with clothes all on. It rained 
and poured and about 7, guides made fire in rain, and by 8 it had 
stopped and after breakfast we started for mouth of Sheppard brook. 
We soon began to bring in the big fellows. Charlie with 10 to his 
credit, 2 }/± down to %, nearly all about lj^. I had poorer position 
and got 5, with the largest, had a chub also. Had no net and did 
not get him into boat, but would doubtless weigh 3 lbs. Joe failed 
to land the two best, but we did not care for their meat. One 
2j/£ lbs. nearly enough for all four. I would have liked to have 
weighed and measured the three pounder ; think it likely he weighed 
over 3 lbs. 

Best flies to date all kinds considered, Parmachenee Belle, Black 
Pennell Palmer Hackle, scarlet body, Brown Hackle, Pennell Palmer, 

This a. m. 14 fish, pool, weighed 22 lbs. We use the best butter 
I know of; keeps perfectly for a month. 

Expected to start at 3.30 for Sheppard brook, but it threatened 
rain, so we waited and it rained and poured for three hours, so 
all we could do was to get supper between showers, then early to 

Ninth Month 8th. 

Got up and tried Sheppard brook, but found it a roaring torrent, 
running way out into the lake, carrying debris of all kinds, and we 
could do no good fishing. 

We had been looking at a deer across the lake, and as we were 
unsuccessful in getting fish to eat, we concluded that if this deer 
were a little fellow we would have him if we could. So after much 
maneuvering Charlie got a shot and we secured him. We were 
so hungry for meat we had liver for dinner by cooling it, and it was 
a delightful change, and excellent. All the meat was fine, and much 
better than the first one. 

In the afternoon, Chas. went up on the hillside to look for bear, 
black cats, bobtails, etc., and brought back a squirrel tail and some 
wood for an axe handle. 



Had a very fine camp site here and everything was very satis- 
factory, in way of tent, bed, dinner, table, etc. 

Ninth Month 9th. 

This was the day for us to break camp and start homeward, and 
the plan was to stop at various points to fish a short time, especially 
the first day; so we went across to Sheppard brook once more, 
but meeting with no encouragement we paddled down the two 
miles of the lake to the river's mouth and then on down the swift 
river. The water so high that it was literally shooting the rapids 
in a canoe. Often we went at the rate of 10 miles an hour, and 
much of the trip was six miles in the hour. * * * 

This was a very enjoyable trip; over 200 miles by canoe. 



Rules of Golf reduced to five words by Samuel L. Allen : 
"Head still — see spot — twist." 

^BOUT the spring of 1901 my father was putting 
f-\ on our tennis court at Breidenhart. Presently 
he began to tell me about the game, and how 
much interested he was in it; that Uncles David and 
Joseph and William Roberts, and Walter Stokes and a 
number of others were going to start a club and had 
asked him to join. 

"I hardly know what to do about it," he said. "It 
will take a great deal of time, one or two afternoons a 
week and time to practice, but all the others are going 
to be in it, so I think I will play, too." Then after a 
few more putts, he continued, "Now, they have all 
been playing more or less for two years, and are way 
ahead of me, so I'll have to do something to catch up, 
or they won't want to play with me"; then began one 
of the inevitable calculations when any subject was 
seriously considered. 

"Let me see, in two years they have spent so much 
for balls, so much for instruction, so much for dues, so 
much for caddie fees. Now in order to catch up with 
them, I'll have to take frequent golf lessons and practice 
faithfully," and, he added with a smile, "there is all 
that money they have spent in the last two years, and 



I can use as much to pay for everything." Thus it was 
settled, and Golf, Golf, became the great outdoor inter- 
est the rest of his life. 

And what a boon it was to him! The complete 
change of thought from business perplexities within of- 
fice walls to the open greens and space and beauty of 
the sky; the success of one moment eclipsed by the 
failure of the next, but with "hope springing eternal." 
He read intensively all the books by the best players, 
studied them, took notes, practiced, took lessons, prac- 
ticed, read, made more notes, and took more lessons 
whenever opportunity offered. 

Oh, the joy and the delight that golf gave him! 
The intense pleasure he had in a "good game," when 
they "were all even," or he "was one up," or "only 
one down." Then the other days when, "I couldn't 
play; I guess I was too tired. I suppose the poor 
game is my real game, and the good ones the excep- 
tions." Or, again he would say, "I could not hold my 
head still; I would take my eye off the ball." Then 
more study, fresh notes, another lesson: "Ah! he's a 
good professional; he seemed to see just what my fault 
was , and I could drive — perfect beauties . My ! how they 
went— just as straight and true." Then more enthu- 
siastic playing and practice until he was again "off his 

Daniel White told me he well remembered a score of 
86 that my father made on the No. 1 course at Pine- 
hurst. "He played a very good game, and cherished 
this score with pride. He had a very retentive memory, 
and months or years after could tell the clubs used and 
strokes played at important or interesting matches. I 



had a great deal of respect for thy father's ability and 
memory, and I always enjoyed playing with him. 
While he liked to tell of his good strokes, he did not 
talk of his poor ones." 

This last was very true, and as I have thought for a 
reason, picture after picture comes to mind of father 
when he came in from a match, either bright and cheer- 
ful, or " all tired out." This might mean either physical 
or mental fatigue, almost inseparable conditions, either 
causing poor play, and in turn increasing both kinds of 
exhaustion. But after a few minutes he would seat 
himself with book and pencil and begin intensive study 
with the hope of finding where his trouble lay. Little 
conversation took place at these times, but he made 
frequent trips to the lawn for practice strokes. When 
the difficulty was mastered, the joy of the conqueror 
was his, and he radiated enthusiasm and satisfaction. 

Indeed, only a few days before my father's death he 
gave me a graphic picture of a game he had played 
years before at Pinehurst, and then I moved away to> 
let him rest. He looked so sweet and lovely and en- 
joyed the recollection so much of a close and interesting 
match; and I was greatly impressed with his wonder- 
ful memory and the accuracy of his description. 

I have found many concise notes on golf made by 
him, some on half-sheets or scraps of paper, others on 
cards, some for vest-pocket pieces with the corners 
rounded, and even then so well-worn. Truly, he was 
indefatigable, always welcoming any improvement on 
past experience and putting it into instant practice. 
Styles change even in golf, and the professional at 
Orlando, where I write this, teaches a straight arm 



position for both arms in the driving swing, preferring 
it to keeping the right arm close to the body, as my 
father did, which is "one way." The following typical 
notes have been chosen as most likely to be of interest, 
and are grouped under subjects with an occasional word 
added to make the meaning clearer. 


Taylor: — The club must always follow through on the line. 
Keep direction steadfastly before you. Eye unswervingly on ball 
is only real secret of success. Concentrate on ball till it has gone, 
and a second after, on spot where it was. Right elbow must keep 
close to the side. 

Vardon: — Low tee, keep head still, eye on back center of ball 
till it has gone. Follow through on line. Swing down, both elbows 
graze body. 

Travers: — Low tee or none, sweep ball away, no pressing. Keep 
eye on back center of ball. Head perfectly still. Eye on ball. 
Brassie gives far more control on fair green; keep eye on ball. 

Braid: — Use of wrists is most important, to produce a powerful 
"flick." Have ball near middle of body, stance square. A delicate 
man must depend on getting his long ball from the wrists. Usually 
there is strong inclination to get body ahead of club, when coming 
down to the ball. Never let body and head get in front. Follow- 
ing through gets much further and more run and guides the ball 
along. Mind, in following through, the body comes well around. 
Draw club around body, not on the line. Try short gripping when 
off, and the regular game will come back. 

"Half Hours with Coaches: — In driving, must not hit, but sweep. 
It is essential to know the difference. Absolutely no swaying. 
Swing around an axis, down the center of back. 


Taylor: — Follow through along the ground for a push shot. 
Keep left elbow close around hip; ball near the right foot; hands 
low. Grip firm. Hands forward, follow through steadily along 



the ground as far as one can reach. For 15 -yard shots change 
stance, shifting body more ahead of ball. Hold right foot firm, take 
a short, firm grip. Swing to the ground. Eye on the ground one 
inch to the rear of ball. Against wind, stand with ball opposite 
right foot; easy swing, accuracy is always essential. In bunkers 
raise club straight up. Keep eye on speck of sand back of ball. 


"From Half Hours with Coaches: — Swing arms as little as pos- 
sible. The less the club is lifted, the steadier will be the game. 
Grip all irons firmly with both hands. For distance with irons, 
let arms go out. To stop short, without a run, snap up with wrists. 
Always use short, strong strokes when close to the hole. This is 
perhaps the most difficult part of the game. Most troubles come 
from not keeping eye on the ball. 


Travis: — Hold body immovable, no wrist movement. Fix eye 
on the back-center of ball. 

Vardon: — Keep head of club exactly on line of putt. Accuracy 
is impossible if club is brought around at all. Make a short follow 
through, keeping the putter well down for some inches. "Be up." 

Taylor: — Most strokes are lost on the greens. Putting requires 
greater attention than any stroke. Have ball near left heel. 

Duncan: — Let right forearm rest slightly on right thigh, then 
tap and follow through. Wrist work alone. To avoid pulling, 
follow through on the line. Take a line quickly ; delay is dangerous. 

Tr avers: — Good putting is mainly the result of confidence. Feet 
close together, look at and strike back-center of ball. Pendulum 
swing. Follow through with the club always on the line. Head 
still. Body still. Eye on spot till ball has passed. Hit absolutely 

"Eighteen holes with nineteen putts," made "by holding putter 
tight with first two fingers of right hand and steering with left." 
Change putters when off game. " Bolt short putts on fast greens." 
When playing badly, actually see whether you really keep your eye 



on the ball, and head and body still, particularly in short 

Taylor: — Weight on left, play off right. Right forearm slightly 
resting on thigh. Strike exact center. Use wrists only. Follow 
through on line. Approach putts. Be up, get line promptly. 
Walk up to ball, then one glance, and putt "without a 
moment's hesitation." 


Travis: — "Golf" requires constant practice, in the hardest and 
most unnatural way. Improvement is slow but sure. 

Do not hit too soon in the long game, nor look up too soon in 
the short. 

In sand bunker strike one inch back of ball. Hit hard. Greater 
loft is necessary the further back the aim. Strike straight down, 
and direct club towards the ball after sand is struck. Hit, but do 
not swing. 

Same holds good in long grass. Change angle of club to get out 
of difficult places. 

Bad Lie: — Feet further apart, grasp firm, ball near right foot; 
up very straight. Cut down into ground straight, just behind the 
ball; drive as if into bowels of the earth; then follow through. 
Take a little earth behind the ball. May approach 50 yards and 
under with putter, driving ball as if into ground. 


"You can accomplish much by great endeavor, but until you 
have acquired the golfing mind that remains unruffled by all the 
outrages of fortune, as well as steadiness of stroke that comes 
more by experience than by the development of skill, you are 
singularly liable to crack, especially in a stroke competition." 

My father said with great satisfaction many times the last year 
of his life, "I have it all reduced to five words now: 'Head still — 
see spot — twist.'" 

Golf rules for self 1-8-11. Do not try to do any hole under 
bogey. Hit every ball true. Let caddy watch the flight. For 
gallery, tee high, hit true and not too hard. Don't talk. 



The last notes of all follow, giving his latest con- 
clusions, 1-10-18, probably as a result of lessons taken 
from the professional in Miami, expressing his own 
needs : 

Place ball 4 inches inside left heel, eye on ball. Head still till 
ball has gone. Go slowly back; back all the way, twist hard, then 
hit the spot. Keep right leg stiff, right hip stationary, weight on 
left foot and on heels. 

Putting: — Weight on left foot and heels. Ball well to the right. 
Pick spot 6 inches ahead of ball; keep eye on that, swing two or 
three times while getting the line. Then quickly place club 
behind ball and instantly swing back, pause slightly, then forward. 
Tap, when within 10 inches to 15 inches. Hit ball true; the same 
every time without moving head or right elbow from hip. 

Drive: — Stand well away, but straight. Address nearer toe of 
club. Start back slowly; after 12 inches begin increasing speed 
and continue to increase till after ball is struck. 

Pasted on to another clipping is this : 
"Success never drops in on us without an invitation." 

In the slender notebook he always carried are notes 
of a few important matches : 

1906, Pinehubst, 1-15-06. 

Went round in 108 ! Will be in 7th eight. Eleven on the twelfth, 
after putting three balls in the pond, and nine on the tenth, and 
12th. This P. M. beat a 2nd eight man one up — 9 holes. 1-16- 
'06. In the seventh eight, played Mamlock. He took fifteen 
in 1st hole to my five, but he was a good fighter and beat me 
finally one down. 

P. M. Played Rosenfeld, had a close zigzag game. I finally 
beat him one up. 


Thirty-six holes, MacGregor, beat him six and five. 


Pinehurst tournament. About seventy-five entries. I made 98, 
there were ten 98's, a good many 97's. So I took the fourth six- 



teen. 96 got in the second sixteen. Shows the importance of each 
and every stroke. Three 98's were put into the third sixteen, and 
the remaining seven went into the fourth. 


I played Tilton of New York in the A. M. and beat him six and 
five. In the P. M. Chichester, and beat him at the 19th hole. 
Score 98; it does seem as if I could easily get an 85, but I don't 
and can't! 


Played W. M. Johnson. Beat him easily. P. M. played Harris, 
beat him easily, and was runner in the fourth sixteen, getting the 
cup I preferred. 

1-20-07. Pinehurst. 

After driving 220 yards on No. 1 and 225 on No. 15 and 200 
each on No. 4 and No. 16, and practically outdriving in a four- 
some, Mr. Murray, my partner, and Ormstead and Martell, and 
watching Murray make about 90 and Ormsbee 87, the latter not 
driving more than 160 yards, I conclude, as I made about 110, 
that absolute steadiness is the main thing. My mashie shots were 
better than any of theirs, absolutely straight and almost exactly 
the right distance, at 11th and 3d, and much superior to Murray 
with mashie shot at 17th; superior also with cleek at 8th. Murray 
said my greatest fault was "taking my eye off." 

At the Advertisers' Tournament, father gives a list 
of interesting men whom he met, among them Mr. 
Charles F. Weeks and Mr. G. S. Steel, the latter from 
Brookline. Mr. Weeks spoke so highly of Belleair, 
Florida, "that it would just suit us," that we finally 
engaged rooms there for two weeks, but before eating 
our first breakfast we asked to have the time indefi- 
nitely extended. Our winters there were happy indeed, 
and we were always grateful to Mr. Weeks for praising 
it so highly. 



PlNEHURST, 1-20-08, P. M. 

Had a great game with G. S. Steel. Had him ten down, making 
an 86. Easy enough to drive and brassy if eye is kept on ball 
and the stroke is properly timed. (Then follow minute directions 
on the swing and for the use of the brassy, irons and putter.) 

Golf, Moorestown, 10-12-11. Finals 2d sixteen with David R. 
Lippincott. Played fourteen holes yesterday. My first five, each 
in bogey, total 46. Could not drive, but approaching was fair 
and putting fine. Poor drives all but one. Trouble, not keeping 
head still till ball has gone fifty yards. 

The winter of 1917 my sister was invited to have an 
Indian basket sale at the Belleview, Belleair, Florida, 
so we went there for ten days; but once with our friends 
in that lovely spot, the charm of the place was too 
strong, and we stayed for weeks. 

Under date of 3-8-17, 1 find these notes: 

For Belleair, a man wants all kinds summer things, straw hat, 
canvas hat, wide brim. About eight balls a month. Rubber sole, 
high, russet, smooth leather, golf shoes, fit for golf, or all but evening 
wear. Probably smooth leather. Probably rubber grips. If leather, 
some castor oil. White and red paint, former thin, and brush ; clubs 
put in order. Sweater and vest, umbrella. Notes for "general 
wear" follow, ending, New golf shirts, to avoid mending! (Always 
thoughtful of my mother.) 

Take lessons at once, say twice or three times a week, one 
club at a time. Practice hard in between; say, lessons, Second 
and Fifth days, practice both days between carefully. 

As an example of my father's great physical endur- 
ance, the following record of activities for one week is 
remarkable, the chauffeur driving the car: 

Our last summer at Pocono together, 1917, we had a 
visit from Uncle David and Aunt Elizabeth and Bessie 
Roberts. One Second Day morning early they started 
to Eagles Mere, and rode the hundred miles easily by 



lunch time, which gave them the afternoon for golf. 
A terrific thunderstorm came up and they were caught 
on the links and were soaking wet. Third Day morn- 
ing they played golf, and in the afternoon drove back 
to Pocono, and my father played a few holes on the 
course there. Fourth Day morning he went from 
Pocono to Philadelphia, one hundred miles, in the 
Cadillac, and in the afternoon played a match at 
Merion. Fifth Day morning he had a very busy time 
at the office and plant and drove back to Pocono that 
afternoon. Of course, he played golf there both Sixth 
and Seventh Days; but where is there another man, 
seventy -five years of age, who could put in such a week 
and come through at the end smiling and unfatigued? 

In "The Winning Shot," by Jerome Travers, a book 
father frequently carried with him, the following ex- 
tract is heavily underscored : 

Any man with an average athletic tendency can get back on 
his game in golf if he will follow a few set rules and regulations. 

If he will first seek competent instruction. 

If he will then practice concentration, and practice thoroughly 
the art of thinking how the stroke should be played. 

If he will practice control of his temper and his judgment, 
and will keep a clear head, working with patience and calmness. 

Father's frequent success in tournaments was a real 
credit, for while it was always very hard for him to bear 
the strain of a gallery, he eagerly sought opportunities 
for a match, either with friends or strangers. 

One year he showed with much pride a dainty alumi- 
num cup, two inches high, given him by J. Haines Lip- 
pincott. Many times he has told us how Mrs. Lippin- 



cott 'Heft the dinner table to get the cup, although their 
trunks were packed." 

The following letter gives further details : 

Haddon Hall, Atlantic City, N. J., 6-7-18. 
Elizabeth R. Allen, Moorestown, N. J. 

Dear Friend: — The little cup presented to Samuel L. Allen by 
me at Pinehurst several years ago was just a golfer's joke. Samuel 
had gone to Pinehurst a week before our party to get some practice 
before the tournament. He was playing good golf until the tour- 
nament, and then his game went badly. He lost his first match 
in the morning and felt discouraged. As my fate was the same, 
we played together in the afternoon on the No. 1 Course. Samuel 
made the course in 86, beating me both at medal and match play. 

I had been playing with him in the Ozone Club for many years, 
and never saw him enjoy a round more; he was most enthusiastic 
and happy. That night we presented him at dinner with a cup 
filled with salted almonds, telling him the cup was in recognition 
of the splendid score he made. While most of the golfers filled 
their cups with liquid refreshments, we felt this would be more to 
his liking. 

Samuel was popular with all the men, young and old, at Pine- 
hurst, and was known by many as "the Grand Old Man." There 
never was a golfer who had read more on the subject and who 
knew the rules as he did. Harry Leeds and I often have talked 
about his wonderful enthusiasm for the game. I look back to the 
times spent with him both at the Ozone meets and at Pinehurst 
with a great deal of pleasure. 

Very truly thy friend, 

J. Haines Lippincott. 

My Dear Children:— Pinehukst, N. C, 1-16-10. 

Perhaps thee, Charlie, would be interested in some of the golf 
doings. I qualified all right, won two matches, but could not get 
started on the third, and lost to a poorer player. I was in the fourth 
division again, in the Advertisers' Tournament, and went through 



in good shape, 90-95-97-92. The last man everybody wanted 
beaten. He started by shaking hands and saying he wanted or 
rather intended to lick me. I said I felt the same way toward 
him; in fact, that was what I was there for. 

He was pretty disagreeable, but I kept jollying him so that his 
grumblings about his clubs and his balls did not affect me. The 
first hole I had a putt for a four about two feet (hole 365 yards), 
but he was away with a long putt and stymied me, so I only 
got a half, but he knew he had a narrow escape. The next, same 
length, both bogey 5, I won 5-7, next 5-8, next 310 yards, bogey 4, 
half in 4; fifth 3-4 (3 up) and he never headed me. I enclose 
card I would have won out on the 16th, but two feet away, he laid 
me a dead stymie 3 inches from the hole. I drove him away over 
the hole, but my ball did not follow on quite enough to go in. 

In the driving contest, I was first for a long time, beating Harry 
Leeds, etc., including the winner of the qualification round and 
other first sixteen men. I won the second handicap prize, but I 
could not have both; but I am going to learn definitely who were 
first and second. 

Your father, 

Samuel L. Allen. 

The ninth annual banquet and meeting of the Ozone 
Club was held at the Hotel Chalfonte, 1-28-1910, where 
the members and their families enjoyed the delightful 
hospitality of Henry W. Leeds and Albert T. Bell ex- 
tended over the week end. Father read a paper de- 
scribing his trip among the golf courses of England, 
later printed in The Westonian, and now in this book. 

This year the Ozone Cup was won by J. Stogdell 
Stokes, father being one of four competitors for it. An 
extract from the Club's report says: 

Greatest Improvement Prize won by SAMUEL L. ALLEN, 
14.8 per cent, improvement over best previous year, 29 per cent, 
improvement over 1909. 



The figures winning this prize are worthy of comment. That 
our eldest member should show such improvement in his own play 
is noteworthy, but that none of thirty younger men competing on 
strictly parallel terms show percentages of improvement even 
comparative with that of Samuel L. Allen makes his performance 
one of the most remarkable on our records. All honor to the Dean 
of the Ozone Club ! ! ! 

The monthly games of golf with the Ozone Club were 
the greatest pleasure and delight to my father, giving 
him, besides the game, the highly prized association 
with intimate friends. 

Every winter "members and their families," or in 
more recent years, "members and their wives," are 
invited to Atlantic City from Sixth day night to Second 
day morning, for the annual meeting. There at Had- 
don Hall, Chalfonte, The Dennis, or Traymore, they are 
the recipients of the most delightful and lavish hos- 
pitality from their fellow-members, who are owners of 
those hotels. 

After a delicious and beautifully staged dinner, the 
annual meeting is held, with speeches and presentations 
of cups. These are wonderful occasions, greatly appre- 
ciated and immensely enjoyed by every one present. 
Aunt Elizabeth S. Roberts vividly remembers a spell- 
ing bee at Chalfonte, when Thomas K. Brown and my 
father were left alone on the same side after two long 
lines had been spelled down. The words were then 
given out as rapidly as possible, father lasting several 
words after his companion left him. I am glad to have 
found this one letter describing an unusual meeting: 



Hotel Traymore, Atlantic City, N. J., 1-23-16. 
My dear Wife: — 

Almost sunset, writing on plate-glass desk, looking N. E. over 
the city and meadows beyond. Out of the other window I look 
up toward the Chalfonte, the lighthouse and ocean. (Complete 
description of room follows.) 

Well, I arrived here on the 4 o'clock train, came right to my 
room and ordered a call for 7 P. M. I did not get more than a 
wink or "forty winks," but felt much refreshed, very much. At 
7.30 went to the banqueting-hall on the 11th floor, finding a Jap- 
anese setting. The whole floor, to begin with, was studded with 
trees, oaks and pines, so naturally placed that the tables were set 
as it were in a forest of trees, beautifully lighted, with scarce 
room to get around or under them, either for us or the waiters. 
The trees were hanging thickly with large Japanese lanterns, and 
a family of Japanese dressed in native style sat or strolled around. 

A golf course was represented upon the floor with holes, balls, 
a caddy and a couple of boys putting. 

An orchestra in one corner made the necessary " noise." Daniel 
S. White said he was afraid there was too much noise, so I told 
him the Thomas Scattergood story and his having the orchestra 
make "less noise." The menu was not very elaborate, but was 
fine and good. The cameras took a flashlight picture, but the 
forest interfered. 

An eagle, a leopard and a golf bag and clubs modeled in ice 
cream and lighted by electricity gradually melted away before us : 
then the cup giving and the speech making were all very fine and 
funny and witty. I got to bed about 12.15 A. M., awoke before 
7 A. M., breakfast about 8 A. M., then to the golf course. Twenty- 
four players; there were but seven better than I. E. S. Wood 
the best, and he but eleven strokes better; 92; 1, 103. Had mild, 
cloudy weather. I played well. One of the caddies said I "played 
a good game for an old gentleman." John Webster said I "played 
a beautiful game." I had a good time anyhow. 

Last evening pleasantly spent in conversation, though I went 
to bed early. I received thy nice letter and enclosure, and talked 



to the Buzbys. They continue to have a high opinion of Pinehurst 
and the Carolina and the links, etc. 

I came within a stroke or two of winning a cup for the best 
match plays for the year. J. Haines Lippincott played seven 
matches and lost but one and won out. I played seven and lost 
but one but halved one; needed one less stroke. 

This afternoon we went all over the working parts of the house, 
in basement, kitchen, engine room, refrigerators, etc., etc. Very 
interesting and wonderful. There are many inquiries and regrets 
for you. I have enjoyed every minute. 

Dear Son Charles: — Belleair Heights, Fla., 3-1-17. 

My golf has not improved much, though I had Burt (E. W.) 
two down on the first 9 today, first time we have played; but 
the second nine he overcame that; he came up wonderfully 
and finished three up, having three 4's and a 3. I was 46 going 
out, he 48; coming in I went all to bits, a 54 to his 44. 

I have found out some of my troubles, a hard thing to do, in an 
unusual way. Vardon says "a confirmed foozler should practice 
an hour a day for a month." I started in to do that in the after- 
noons, playing 18 holes in the mornings. I almost broke all up 
in my practice, but two or three good players have seen me at work 
and noticed my faults and helped me to correct them! Rather 
remarkable! I never would have corrected them by playing, I 

The most satisfactory and remarkable thing about it is that all 
this hard work, 18 holes, and from an hour and a half to two 
hours practice every day but First, while it tires me out, has put 
me in such good condition that I feel as well as possible. This is 
worth all our hotel bills, twice over, as Dr. Stokes, etc., had 
thought I could not or ought not to play golf, hardly at all ! Mother 
seems just about as well without golf! 

David Roberts concludes his reminiscences thus : 

In golf Samuel L. Allen found a pastime and recreation, that 
while at first it did not seem to appeal to him, afterwards almost 
superseded all other means of outdoor exercise. To a mind like 



his, so taxed by constant invention, golf came as a great rest and 
relaxation. As soon as he became really interested in the game 
he set about with the great determination so characteristic of him 
to improve himself in the art; while frequent lessons from pro- 
fessionals gradually made him a golfer that players many years 
his junior had to reckon with carefully. 

In his travels in this country and in England and Scotland, he 
was a keen observer of the layout of golf courses, their upkeep, 
and their players, and consequently he was a most valuable aid 
to his home club. He is indeed the father of the present Moores- 
town Field Club golf course, which was laid out as it at present is 
by his own personal planning and supervision, the result of years 
of thought and consultation with noted golfers of the United 

It was always a joy to play with him, and his ever-buoyant 
nature made it an event of pleasure that could only be satisfied 
by a renewal of the opportunity. The Ozone Club, of which he 
was a member from its first organization, feel that they have lost 
a companion whose place can never be filled. 

One great strong point in Samuel L. Allen's character that will 
always stand out vividly before me was his great respect and 
deference for opinions expressed that differed from his own. 
Although always strong in his own convictions, if he saw merit in 
opposite views he was quick to recognize it. No one possessed a 
kinder or more generous nature, and his sympathy and love in 
times of trial and trouble were a source of help and comfort to 

"When saw we thee an hungered and fed thee? or athirst and 
gave thee drink? And when saw we thee a stranger and took thee 
in? or naked and clothed thee? And when saw we thee sick, or 
in prison, and came unto thee? And the King shall answer and 
say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it unto 
one of these my brethren, even these least, ye did it unto me." 

The Ozone Club sent the following minute: 

The death of our dear friend Samuel L. Allen brings to his fellow- 
members of the Ozone a real sense of grief. 



We have suffered a great loss, and will keenly miss the genial 
atmosphere of good comradeship which was always felt in his 
presence. His sturdy character, his enthusiasm and integrity of 
purpose toward the best interests of this organization, have in a 
very large way contributed to our stability and success. 

His many , activities were well ordered, in a just proportion 
between the pursuits of business and those of healthful exercise. 
We may not measure in words the full value of the life of such a 
good and generous man, but the influence of this life will not be 
lost to us who knew and loved him well. 

Tribute from a Golfing Friend: 

When playing golf at Pocono Manor during the past summer, 
I was conscious of a real void, and thus again — and more forcibly — 
realized the personal loss that had resulted from the passing of 
Samuel L. Allen. 

I seemed to see him, early in the morning, practising on or 
approaching to the ninth green, while waiting for an opponent, 
or for three others to make a "foursome." His cheery greeting, 
his instant readiness to try conclusions with younger men, his 
painstaking play, his remarkable knowledge of the technique of 
the game, and the skill he exhibited in action — all combined to 
make him an unusually worthwhile companion, as well as a desir- 
able partner, or an antagonist to be reckoned with. 

The introduction of golf at Pocono Manor was heartily approved 
by Samuel Allen, and largely influenced his decision to build a 
summer cottage there. No one showed more interest in the 
subject than he did, and it was characteristic of the man that this 
interest took practical form. 

Well do I remember the evening of Labor Day, 1917. Samuel 
Allen had won his match that morning, in the contest between 
Pocono Manor and Buck Hill Falls, and — after supper — asked a 
small group to meet at the Inn office for discussion of some con- 
templated changes in the golf course. To forestall the possibility 
of deferred action, Samuel Allen said in effect, and rather wist- 
fully, "You younger men can wait; but I cannot, and I want the 
improvements made at once." Then he offered a convincing money 



contribution if available funds should prove insufficient; and 
under the stimulus of his enthusiasm steps were taken to proceed 
with the work immediately. 

But it is in connection with the Ozone Club that I like best to 
think of Samuel Allen. He was a charter member of this unique 
organization of about thirty Quaker business men, who, com- 
mencing in the first month of 1901, have given consistent support 
to the wholesome theory that "all work" is as undesirable for 
grown-ups as for the historic "Jack" and his kind. 

For seventeen years — during the second three of which he held 
office as president — Samuel Allen attended our Ozone "monthly 
meetings" whenever he found it possible to do so, and did not 
hesitate to come all the way from Florida to be present at some 
important gathering. 

The last time I was privileged to see him was at the annual 
meeting in Atlantic City, held at the Chalfonte, First month 11th, 
1918; and it is interesting to note that on this occasion he was 
awarded the Charles Lippincott platter for low score in the put- 
ting contest that occurred at Huntington Valley, Seventh month 
18th, 1917. 

We miss him greatly, for no one can take his place amongst us; 
and I am glad to be allowed to record in this brief way my affec- 
tionate regard for and sincere appreciation of Samuel L. Allen. 

James G. Biddle. 
Tenth month, 1918. 

William F. Overman has kindly written these impres- 
sions of my father: 

It may be of interest to those who knew and loved Samuel L. 
Allen to share some recollections of the splendid comradeship 
enjoyed by one of his many friends who often played golf with 
him on the Moorestown and Pocono links. Samuel was in no sense 
a one-sided man. Besides his inventive genius, which was prob- 
ably the dominant feature of his life, he was prominent in several 
other lines of activity. 



Not the least of his attainments was his skill in golf, taken up 
when well past the meridian of life, when most men are letting 
up in business because of advancing years. He was in the true 
sense of the term a golf student. It is safe to say that few men 
in America knew the game more thoroughly than he, or were more 
conversant with golf literature, or better acquainted with the golf 
courses of America and with golf enthusiasts. 

It is wise for every man to have a hobby. Surely this proved 
true in the case of Samuel L. Allen, for it gave him the necessary 
relief from the grind of an active business career, and drew him 
into the open life of the country, with the most wholesome kind of 
exercise for mind and body. All this gave him a keen delight. 

The golf course at Moorestown is the creation of Samuel L. 
Allen. Few of us realize the amount of time and study he gave it. 
He was generous in his contributions for it, but the club is espe- 
cially indebted to him for his wise judgment and skill in planning 
it. The course was once a cornfield, and the old ridges interfered 
with good play when the course was first opened. This annoyed 
Samuel, and he invented and had made in the S. L. Allen & Com- 
pany shop a machine which flattened out the ridges without inter- 
fering with play. It was a keen pleasure for him to watch this 
machine perform the work so perfectly. 

Often while playing golf together we have come to the second 
tee, and Samuel would remark that Asa Roberts was an excellent 
farmer, using the Planet Jr. tools. At this point I have often seen 
him step over to the farm hand, compliment him on the perfection 
of his work, and return to the game of golf with the intense satis- 
faction that only comes to those who have made a successful 
invention for the betterment of mankind. 

Samuel was inclined to be a little nervous about the game of 
golf, and it was hard for him to play with a gallery or with strangers. 
He loved to win, and was as happy as a boy when he came to the 
club house one or more holes "up" on his opponent. He was 
methodical with his golf as in other things, keeping a diary of his 



play. Here is a sample: "9-26-'06, played William Overman 
twenty-seven holes. Had him one down: 50-45-43. Smothered 
two drives, missed ten-foot putt for a two on 9th. Seems as if I 
ought to go under 40 frequently. I seem to be very back on my 
game, but game is five strokes or more poorer than it ought to be." 

I always enjoyed playing with Samuel. He was a true sport. 
There were more than twenty years difference in our ages, but 
Samuel was as young in spirit as a youth, full of humor and ready 
to give or take banter. It was his usual custom in starting off from 
the club house to banteringly remark, "How many bisques does 
thee want today, William?" as much as to say he surely expected 
to win. 

The club membership generally has retained one of his sayings. 
When a ball is driven too high, the player remarks, "A long ball! 
way up — and way down!" 

The psychology of the game was more evident in Samuel than 
in any man I ever played. If he were winning, his game often 
reached a high state of perfection; if losing, it deteriorated rapidly. 
As age grew apace this became more and more evident. 

If Samuel were "3 up" and "2 to go," as he frequently was, it 
gave him keen delight to remark ironically, "The game is over; 
shall we play it out?" 

As "Mark Hopkins and a pine log" are said to make a Univer- 
sity, so it was an education in golf to play with Samuel, and have 
his ripe judgment about the new ideas on putting, driving, ap- 
proaching, and other points of golf technique. 

Whatever else Samuel L. Allen was as a golfer, he was first, last 
and all the time, a gentleman, always courteous, considerate of 
others, and observed to the letter the etiquette of the game. The 
many happy hours on the golf links at Moorestown and Pocono 
with Samuel will always be one of the delightful memories of my 
life, and I am thankful to Him who created the delightful world 
around us and placed in it such a lovable man. 

In loving memory, 

William F. Overman. 


My father had a very high regard for Walter J. 
Travis, and enjoyed meeting him at Pinehurst and 
other tournaments, so I sent him one of the tributes 
written by J. Stogdell Stokes. His reply follows, also 
extracts from the notice in the May number of The 
American Golfer, 1918, of which Mr. Travis is editor: 

Miss Elizabeth R. Allen, 

Breidenhart, Moorestown, N. J. 

My dear Miss Allen: — 

I have your letter of 10th inst., and deeply regret to learn of 
the demise of your father, whom I knew intimately and counted 
on as one of my warmest personal friends. 

It will afford me melancholy pleasure to make reference to Mr. 
Allen's death in the next issue of The American Golfer. 

Meanwhile pray accept my condolences on your sad bereave- 

Respectfully yours, 

W. J. Travis. 

Death has again taken from Philadelphia golfers one of the best 
loved of all, Samuel L. Allen. In his seventy-seventh year he died 
at Miami, Florida, from hardening of the arteries. Fortunately he 
was spared suffering, for he was hale and hearty to within three 
weeks of his death. Not only was he one of the most enthusiastic 
of golfers, but as a player he had few equals among men of his 
years. During his long and useful life, he was a keen sportsman, 
and in many branches he was most proficient. * * * 

Nearly eighteen years ago, Samuel Allen played his first game of 
golf, and he was nearly 60 years of age at the time. Applying the 



same careful study and methodical application to the sport as was 
typical of everything he attempted, he soon developed a surpris- 
ingly good game. Only a month or two ago, The American Golfer 
announced his success in one of the recent tournaments of the 
Ozone Club at Atlantic City. These old friends of his must ever 
recall many happy days afield with the grand old gentleman with 
delight, yet with keenest regret that he has passed. 



SOON after our return from Europe the incon- 
veniences of living on a side road some distance 
from the stations and school became rather 
oppressive, while the compact little farmhouse was full 
to overflowing. 

As my mother's family, including her father and 
four married brothers and sisters, all lived within a 
mile of the center of Moorestown, New Jersey, a site 
for a new home was selected there on the eastern end 
of the main street. This eight-acre field was part of 
the old Dr. Spencer property, and was purchased from 
Florence Spencer, wife of Samuel E. Stokes. The 
original Spencer home had been occupied for some 
years by J. Whitall Nicholson and family; of the latter 
my father said once, "I believe he is a man who 
'thinketh no evil.'" 

When father asked us how we would like to live in 
Moorestown, a wail of protest arose from the children; 
they "did not see what we wanted to live in Moores- 
town for! There was nothing to do in Moorestown!" 
"What is there here?" father asked. "Everything," 
was the emphatic reply. He was much gratified that 
Ivystone was so fully appreciated, and immediately 
said, "Then we will begin to make 'everything' in 



While my father made the broad plantings and a 
general design for the grounds, he wished the assist- 
ance of the most trained experience in landscape work 
available, so Charles Miller, an Englishman, who laid 
out the new part of Fairmount Park across the river, 
was consulted from time to time, and he also laid out 
our box garden and surrounding borders, and drives. 

To Sue at Westtown Boarding School: 

* * * Next week we expect to plant the new place (in 
Moorestown), about thirty grapes, 500 asparagus roots, 50 black- 
berries, 100 raspberries, one dozen gooseberries, 100 currants, six 
cherry trees, 12 peaches, 24 apples, 30 pears, 50 nut trees, 100 
shade trees, 50 to 100 ornamental trees and some shrubbery, so 
we are in quite a state how and where to plant, to have them just 
right in every way. * * * 

I wish the place we had chosen had a view of river and distant 
railroad, but we cannot have everything. 

* * * I spent about two hours on the new lot, New Ivy- 
stone or Ivystone, Jr., or Longacres, Longmeadow, or Six Pines, 
or Longland, Longfield, Long croft, Langcroft, Intervale, Valley 
View, or something else, yesterday. We want a name very much; 
the chief features are a long, narrow field sloping from the highest 
elevation, or nearly so, in Moorestown, to the railraod, good views 
both ways and six or eight pine trees along the road front. We 
will probably leave but six pines. 

Thee will see then that all the names mentioned refer to the 
view or surroundings. Which of them does thee think suitable 
candidates for the position? And name some others. 

The flatness of Jersey was always a trial to my 
beauty-loving father, but he immediately began to 
make the most of the undulations in our "field," 
deepening the hollows by placing the soil from them on 
their sides and planting the resulting "hills." Farmers 
wondered how we would drain these valleys through 



the center of the field, but that took care of itself, and 
the years have justified this gentle artifice. 

The site for the house was selected with the greatest 
care, being centered on Heulings Mount a few miles to 
the south; and as each house below ours to the Mount 
Laurel road was set back further than its neighbor, we 
came forward a few feet, thus enjoying the curving 
sweep of all of their lawns, without having their care. 
Other fine details my father worked out with the keenest 
delight, that all might be rounded into one harmonious 
whole. Wishing to make as few mistakes as possible, 
he made many plans and studied the best books on 
building, while we visited kind friends who allowed us 
to measure their rooms and examine their modern con- 
veniences, which were about to become delightful reali- 
zations for us. Walter Smedley was the architect 
chosen, and he and my father had many a seance 

Pennsylvania limestone from Avondale and Indiana 
sandstone for trimmings were selected as being sub- 
stantial and appropriate for a home. My father 
greatly admired beautiful hard woods, and although 
the temptation was strong to have white enamel and 
a colonial type of house, a different design suited our 
needs better, and we never regretted our choice. 

The line of the house paralleled the main street and 
faced almost due south, with the dining-room on the 
south-eastern arm of a "Y" and the kitchen wing on 
the north-eastern arm. This proved a happy arrange- 
ment, as we began with the sun in the morning at 
breakfast and it followed around the house all day; 
and while the cool breezes were drawn into the house 



in summer, in winter they were reversed and the hall 
door often blew shut, and we never needed a storm 
door, nor had odors from the kitchen. 

Hale & Kilburn would only guarantee white enamel 
on white mahogany, and wishing nothing better than 
that, white mahogany was used in the parlor. That 
turned the most wonderful golden cream color with the 
years, and the furnishings being in keeping, on a rainy 
day the golden glow made it seem as if the sun were 
shining. The halls, dining-room and staircase were 
quartered oak, and the library mahogany, while the 
bedrooms were butternut, white maple, cherry and 
chestnut, and the color schemes all quietly harmonious. 

Planning the stair-hall gave father particular pleas- 
ure, for ascending a single flight that turned both right 
and left on the landing, no time was lost, neither was 
there "waste space." On the left of the stairs was a 
hatrack, with a series of short drawers, where com- 
partments held gloves for each member of the family. 
Here on a box seat father could sit and change his golf 
shoes or overshoes taken from their own pigeonholes in 
the shoe closet under the stairs. Two coat closets were 
also here, while on the right of the stairs by going down 
two steps access was given to a lavatory, to a delightful 
den, and to the basement stairs, the latter being most 
useful after putting away our wheels in the bicycle 
room under the den and giving a direct route to the 
lawn and stable. 

The stained glass windows on the stair-landing were 
in shades of yellow, to recall the wonderful colors f ailing 
on Napoleon's tomb, and many were the conveniences 
my father delighted to install. Finding that architects 



and carpenters (in those days) were of great stature, 
preferring closet shelves well above their heads, most 
of ours were standardized, the first shelf being "low 
enough for the shortest member of the family to see 
on," and the next ten inches higher and two inches 
narrower, with short shelves down one side. 

Other closets had " self -cleaning " pigeonholes for 
magazines, or in the sewing-room for pieces of muslins 
and dress goods, made by keeping the shelf a half inch 
from the wall. Arthur N. Leeds looked at this closet 
for a moment in silence, I remember, and turning away 
with a sigh said, "It looks as if a poor fellow might be 
able to get a rag for his bicycle there!" 

Fireplaces claimed a great deal of care and attention, 
that they should not smoke yet should throw out the 
heat, and around them many happy hours were spent, 
even planking shad before the dining-room one when 
rain prevented a campfire. 

The house was built by day labor, Eli Maines and his 
son Stewart and their men being the carpenters, and 
Joseph Cox, the watchman, told me that Hale & Kil- 
burn's men said it was the first time they had not been 
able to tell whether work was done by the day or by 
contract, nor who was the boss, for Eli Maines worked 
just as hard as his men. 

The heating system was indirect hot water, and it 
took a great deal of work and experimenting and enclos- 
ing of radiators and adjustment of air flues and valves 
before the thermometer in the stair-hall kept its even 
sixty -eight degrees. 

Abraham Strauch, who helped install the system 
under Elwood Worell's direction, said of my father to 



a friend, "Mr. Allen was a giant in business, and at 
the same time a prince to work for." Replying to 
questions from me he said very emphatically, "Mr. 
Allen did not want to do business with a man who 
said 'yes' to everything, but he tried to bring out all 
the ability of the workman. He always protested against 
engaging a man to do a thing and then interfering or 
doing it himself. He tried to instill a sense of responsi- 
bility in the man, saying again and again, 'Time and 
money don't figure against results! It is results we are 
after, results!'" 

How many times in the early days I have heard my 
father tell of his difficulty to convince committees of 
this first business principle, now usually recognized, 
that their only duty was to select the proper foreman 
or superintendent, who in turn engaged his own sub- 
ordinates, holding them responsible to himself while he 
alone reported to the committee. 

When the walls were ready for the laying of the cor- 
nerstone, a few of us gathered for the ceremony, and 
my father read the following, the original being placed 
within the stone: 

This cornerstone is a forceful reminder, that at some not very 
distant day our home may be removed from all our associations at 
"Ivystone" to these surroundings. 

But we cannot make this change without many regrets and mis- 
givings. More than a quarter of a century of the lives of two of 
our family and the whole lifetime of the remainder, whether with 
us today or not, spent in any one house, must produce and has 
created such a friendship as cannot be broken hastily, nor without 
regrets and misgivings; yet we trust that the new home, which as 
yet cannot be said to have had even its birthday, will become and 
always remain, the stronghold of love, virtue and industry. 


In this little box we have each placed some trifling articles, 
which represent an interest in the new life before us, and an 
earnest wish that friends may one day take it from the stone 
wherein we now place it, and may find safely preserved therein 
these few reminders of the year 1894. The catalogues and papers 
enclosed, the coins, the list of names, and the surrounding grain 
may be in a fair state of preservation, and of interest as relics of 
ancient days and of people long since forgotten. 

That day will probably be far beyond the next Centennial, and 
the discoveries of such an age may make our offerings strange 
and curious indeed; but the coins at least will stand the ravages 
of time and be understood by any finder. 

The piece of Indiana sandstone, to the solid care of which we 
now entrust our mementos, will stand forth at this corner and ever 
remind us of this happy hour and interesting occasion. 

We may now look for the last time upon the little box before us, 
but we shall vividly remember its placement here, and it will 
always seem a bond between us and the protecting, though inani- 
mate walls, within whose depths it now finds its mausoleum. 

To Sue at Westtown Boarding School : 

* * * C. and E. are about going to bed, and then I expect 
there will be some arrangement of presents. My present to you 
all is the stone "Breidenhart," "and I hope it will suit." (Note: 
When Sue's new front teeth had just come in, she climbed onto 
the sewing table to look at them in the mirror, and remarked 
"I hope they will suit.") It is getting along more rapidly, and thee 
will notice much change when thee gets home. Home! Where is 
home now? We begin to wonder. 

* * * I spent two hours at the architect's with satisfactory 
results yesterday. Everything nearly seems likely to be satis- 
factory, though the whole will be large and thee will need to let 
thy love for housekeeping grow ever so much. * * * 



"Ivystone," N. J., Third Month 17th, '95. 
My dear Daughter: — 

No doubt this is the last time I shall address thee from the 
familiar corner in our sitting-room. No other position in another 
house can ever be so well known as this by me. 

Had the moving occurred ten years sooner it might have been 
different; but even if an equal number of years might possibly be 
my lot at Breidenhart, the associations cannot be so readily 
formed, and besides no one spot at Breidenhart will be so much 
the place at which letters will be written. But I think eventually 
all will be glad of the change; the inconveniences of this position 
are now too striking. * * * 

We are just about half moved; but will no doubt move almost 
everything that is left tomorrow. We have nearly all our carpets 
down, and on the first floor, since all are laid with considerable 
margins of the oak floor showing, the spaces between the edges of 
the carpets at the doors are very wide and will call for mats and 
rugs. The house will perhaps be very noisy on account of so much 
bare floor. * * * 

All send love except those in bed. 6 A. M. breakfast. Mamma 
and I wish to be up at 4 A. M. tomorrow. 

With much love, thy father, 

Samuel L. Allen. 

A dear friend of my mother's, Essie L. (Mendenhall) 
Edgerton, wrote the following: 

A greeting to S. L. and S. H. Allen on their first Easter in the 
new home of Breidenhart : 

God bless the house that you have built, 

And all who dwell within. 
St. Michael's angel squadron guard 

From tempest, fire — and sin. 



When mighty trees have around it grown, 

May its stout walls stand strong; 
Some future Aliens' cherished home, 

When the year "Two thousand" dawns. 

On the soft carpet of your floors, 

Soft fall the foot of Time; 
And sweet young faces around your hearth, 

Bright in the firelight shine. 

To share your bounteous table 

Shall come the happy guest, 
And with merry cheer the kindred dear, 

When the Christmas feast is dressed. 

Soon mid the shrubs shall Lillie find 

Some green and bosky nook, 
To sit in golden afternoons 

With a dear treasured book. 

To gladden Emily's loving heart, 

Shall fairer roses glow 
Than brightened the bowers of Ivystone 

In summers long ago. 

To nature's gentle student, 

Who loves all winged things, 
Shall wondrous moths in twilight come 

On downy dappled wings. 

On the young heir of Breidenhart 

Wait honor and renown, 
For not thro' books do gallant deeds 

To generous souls come down. 

And as his knightly sires of yore 
"Rode on the great Crusade," 
So shall he fight for Truth and Bight, 
Though with a mightier blade. 



And as they charged on Judah's Hill, 

And by blue Galilee, 
So may he battle for the Cross 

That makes the whole world free! 

And when the evil days shall come 

To our beloved land, 
May Breidenhart for the Good Cause 

Like a strong fortress stand. 

Within its dainty chambers 

Shall weary statesmen rest; 
And every door shall open wide 

To "the desolate and oppressed." 

For you, dear friends, as down Life's hill 

You go, hand clasping hand, 
Looking beyond the things of earth 

To the dear Heavenly Land 

May all your ways be paths of peace, 

And all your days be blest, 
Till, in the eternal mansions 

Of your Father's house you rest. 

Charles may ask my authority about his ancestors 
going on the Crusade ! I have read in two old histories 
of Sir Lyonal (evidently Sir Lional) Allen who left his 
estate and fair young wife and infant children to go 
upon the Crusade of 1190, and was slain in Judea. In 
a very old church (but I cannot recall what part of 
England) is a very old monument of a certain John 
Allen, Crusader, and he lies sculptered in stone, clasp- 
ing his cross-handled sword: besides this Sister Clo- 
tilde, in speaking of Amelia B.,* said, "It was a great 

*Note — The Amelia Breidenhart referred to was educated in a convent near 
West Chester, Pa., but she married and went west, and all trace of her is lost, and 
we know of no one of that name today. 



pity for them to turn Protestant; her family had been 
Catholic for centuries, and her ancestors, the Barons, 
rode on the great Crusades. I hope to get her address 
sometime from the Mother Superior, who has been ill." 

To Sue at Westtown Boarding School: — 

* * * The Chrysolite met as expected here on 2d day even- 
ing, nearly half staying until morning, and Helen Savery till 4th 
day A. M. The whole occasion was very delightful, I guess, to 
all concerned, tho' Mamma was scarcely well enough to enjoy 
all. The club seemed to fit well in the parlor, while going through 
the stated business of election of officers, decision about the winter 
work and telling of the summer experiences by some who had 
been appointed for it; Henry Allen about the Atlanta Fair, and 
Arthur Leeds about the Whittier homestead. The train at 8.55 
interfered. After the exercises we toasted marshmallows at the 
reception hall wood fire, and then all gathered in there, about 
fifteen, and turning out all the lights except in the stairhall, we 
sat in the firelight an hour or more to sing; then Edward Wood, 
Mary and Anna left, and the rest wandered up and down the drive 
and around the house, in the cold moonlight. All had much enjoy- 
ment I think. Thee not being with us, and Mamma not well were 
the drawbacks! * * * 


Charles has just gone out to throw a torpedo at a strange dog 
or cat that we heard just now. So he is pretty well. Yesterday he 
went after crows on his bicycle, as perhaps he has written thee. 
We have had delightful days lately, tho' not very good for skating 
or the sale of sleds. Charlie watches the mercury, with the hope 
that there will be skating on Christmas. A while ago he announced 
42, and he could see his breath! We are learning to flood and ice 
our tennis court pretty well, and I think we will have it made still 
more perfectly level and then flooding will be much easier. 

* * * The female contingent is very busy planning presents 
for the multitude near Ivystone, as well as for some new-found 



friends here. We have books and knives and calendars and 
candies and gloves and goodies and apples and dresses and aprons 
and handkerchiefs and groceries and coal and stockings and shoes 
and coats and boots and cash and many other things too numerous 
to mention. * * * 

My parents loved to receive their friends, and always 
encouraged us to have ours, and many happy parties 
on the lawn or within the walls of Breidenhart justified 
the meaning of the old German name, " Breitenherds," 
"broad-hearth-stone," or hospitality. 

On one memorable occasion W. Hudson Shaw, of 
Baliol, Oxford, read his lecture on John Ruskin to a 
large company before delivering it in Philadelphia. 
This was given for the benefit of the Cinnaminson 
Summer Home for city children, and was greatly appre- 
ciated by all who had the privilege of hearing him. 
The tickets were beautiful platinum photographs and 
sold for a dollar, and were designed by William H. 
Roberts, combining graceful lettering with a lovely 
New England landscape. 

A favorite method of entertaining was by campfire 
suppers down in our meadow, where planked shad in 
the spring and other good things in the fall were 
much enjoyed. 

The tennis court was the scene of many close matches, 
while in winter we learned to flood it, and children 
could not come to much harm skating on ice made 
from four inches of water. Some years English daisies 
starred the bank surrounding the court, and the grass 
was left uncut there until they had finished blooming. 

It was father's great pleasure to walk over the lawn 
and gardens thoroughly once a week, examining each 



tree and shrub and studying the effect of the planting, 
and planning improvements year by year. He had 
supposed that our "front lawn" would interest us most, 
but Charles Miller said, "Oh, no! that is for the public. 
You will care little for that; but in the rear plant the 
trees so thick that the inner branches will die, leaving 
a green canopy above supported by beautiful tree 
trunks, where it is so quiet that the quail will come 
and nest. That is the part you will love." This proph- 
ecy came true, and later a small golf course was laid 
out down the center of the meadow and the tennis 
court became a putting green. The woods were fringed 
with pink dogwoods that have grown to be a glory in 
spring time, and thousands of bulbs star the long grass 
at their feet; and with the songs of the birds and the 
perfumes of spring a picture is made long to be re- 

Thomas K. Brown says further: 

During the years of common interest in fishing and in West- 
town matters I was a not infrequent visitor at Samuel L. Allen's 
Moorestown home, and the social intercourse on those occasions 
remains one of my most pleasant memories. There was nearly 
always some ostensible reason for my visit, a new rod to be tested, 
a lot of committees to be selected, or an appeal to be revised, and 
a part of the time was always given to the business in hand. But 
there was the pleasant family gathering at the tea and breakfast 
tables, the former of which often ran half way through the 

Frequently, however, some of the family were away, and there 
would be an afternoon walk with one daughter through the flower 
garden, or among the growing trees, or a morning's discussion with 
another over photographs, or some converse with Sarah Allen on 
such subjects as belonged to our common interests and approxi- 


mate age, her kindly human interest being so appreciated when 
she was present, and always missed when she was absent. 

The memorable part of these conversations was that they always 
touched upon matters that lay a little beneath the surface of things, 
so that there was always a grateful feeling of inspiration as I 
looked back on the visit. The home itself always refreshed and 
encouraged me. It was ample, comfortable, and tastefully simple, 
elegant in a certain sense, but never that way which, shows con- 
ventional restraint in color and shape, but unlimited expense in 
fabric and material. It was a natural expression of the life and 
feelings of the family of which he was the loved and honored head. 

My father said to me one day when he had been 
thinking hard, "I have spent all my life trying to do 
everything the best I knew how, and I could not build 
a house that would fall down around my ears!" He 
always shut the front door emphatically when he came 
home, and it seemed to give him such particular satis- 
faction to do so that I said once, "Shutting out all the 
cares of the day?" "Yes," he replied with a smile, 
"and I always like to pause a moment and feel if the 
house shakes." 

When he took up golf, putting either indoors or out 
was an absorbing interest. We breakfasted at seven, 
not to feel hurried, so there was time for the Bible 
reading after the meal and some discussion of plans 
and duties. As the clock struck eight many a time I 
have seen him take his putter and ball and go to the 
green as our neighbor started for the 8.09 train, return- 
ing in two or three minutes, usually with a triumphant 
smile, saying, "I only made one stroke (or two or three 
as the case might be), but that was enough." Then 
he would brush his coat, hat and overcoat, kiss us each 
farewell, and go to the train, he and it often arriving 



together, and buying a paper, he would mount the 
steps with the conductor, and consider that his start 
for the day had been altogether satisfactory. 

Although Breidenhart has now passed into other 
hands, all the hopes and prophecies of our friend may 
yet be realized as years roll on, and I am sure dear 
father would feel we are wise in living at Hillside, so 
ample for the few months we are in Moorestown, and 
therefore be glad that another self-made American 
finds a home at Breidenhart. 







MY father's signal ability and wonderful judg- 
ment were always recognized even by those 
who knew him slightly, and he was an appre- 
ciated member on committees and boards. Indeed, 
Henry W. Leeds exactly describes my own feelings 
regarding our family affairs when he said to me: 

While Samuel Allen would not be a director for Pocono Manor, 
we so respected his vision and judgment that we always liked to 
have his opinion before we started anything new. 

He felt it right to give some time to such matters 
and to business of the Society of Friends, yet like many 
others it was an effort to keep from being overrun with 
engagements. The men with whom he worked were 
frequently much younger than himself, and he greatly 
valued their friendship. The liking was mutual, and he 
seemed to have the power to harmonize differing 
opinions of those both older and younger than himself. 

One day my father asked my opinion of a sample of 
cloth he had selected for a suit of clothes. I examined 
it, and said doubtfully, "I like it very much, but it has 
a thread of red in it." "Yes, I know it," was the smil- 
ing reply, "but I thought the young people could see it 



and the older Friends could not!" meaning the young 
people would appreciate the fact that it was there, 
while being too inconspicuous to be objectionable. 

In 1895 Samuel L. Allen was appointed to fill the 
vacancy caused by the death of his father, John C. 
Allen, on the board of managers of Friends' Hospital, 
Frankford, Philadelphia. My father became very 
much interested in the development of this institution, 
and his work and influence are well indicated in the 
minutes of the board. He was much amused when an 
important purchase was to be made, and Alexander C. 
Wood spoke up, saying, "I want Samuel L. Allen on 
that committee." On father's disclaiming knowledge 
of Pennsylvania values, the reply was, "Well, thee 
knows a whole lot of other things!" 

A. C. Wood also wrote me: 

As a member of the board of managers of Friends' Hospital, 
Samuel L. Allen was much valued. His active and intelligent 
interest in all matters connected with the conduct of the institu- 
tion and the welfare of the patients was very helpful. He gener- 
ously gave to the hospital a fine house on the property for the 
residence of the business manager, which was much needed upon 
the establishment of that important office. He could always be 
depended on to favor any improvements that would make the 
hospital more efficient. His removal is felt to be a serious loss to 
the institution. 

William T. Elkinton as clerk of the board of man- 
agers sent us the following minute : 

Samuel L. Allen, who has ably and acceptably served as a man- 
ager of Friends' Hospital since his appointment in 1895, deceased 
the 28th day of Third Month, 1918, age 76 years. 

Our institution has been greatly benefited by his farsighted 
views in our deliberations, and by his liberal contributions. 



It was his realization of the advantage of making improvements 
in conformity with a general scheme of development that led to 
the appointment of a Committee on Comprehensive Plans, whose 
report is now filed for future guidance. 

We have valued his excellent judgment in all matters connected 
with the hospital, especially as a member of the Executive Com- 
mittee, in which he took active part since his first appointment 
in 1897. 

We desire to record our sense of loss of a beloved and efficient 
manager, and to extend a message of sincere sympathy to his 

Samuel L. Allen served twenty years on the board of 
Haverford College, remaining much longer than he pre- 
ferred at President Sharpless's urgent request that he 
wait until they could retire together. My father en- 
joyed the promptness with which Howard M. Comfort 
conducted the business of this board, saying whoever 
was not in the room before the clock stopped striking 
twelve would be too late to answer to his name, and 
that one must be ready to jump if he had anything to 
say, or a new subject would be introduced before he 
had a chance to speak on the previous one. A result of 
this policy was a full attendance. 

My father's orderly mind was never satisfied unless 
there was a comprehensive plan, prepared by an au- 
thority, arranging for any expansion or new buildings 
that might be required in the next twenty -five or fifty 
years. This was of great advantage in producing a 
harmonious whole, as well as an incentive toward 
broader work. He appreciated the confidence shown 
in making him, "a Jersey man," chairman of so impor- 
tant a committee as that of college property and farm, 
and was much interested in its functioning. 



Prof. Barrett, of the Department of Economics at 
Haverford College, said to us at Pocono: 

We who live at the college have greatly appreciated Samuel L. 
Allen's part in the work of beautifying the campus, not only in 
the judgment shown in rearranging and planting shrubbery and 
trees, but particularly in having the forlorn old barn torn down 
and a well-appointed one built, the farm house remodelled and the 
springhouse restored. I enjoyed sitting by him at the dinners 
given each Autumn for the Managers and Faculty, and talking 
over the affairs of the day, for I always had something I could tell 
my classes he had said. His enthusiasm for the college was such, 
that he gave me the impression that the only things he was inter- 
ested in were Haverford College and his business. 

The minute of the board follows: 

This resignation was accepted with much regret. Samuel L. 
Allen has been a member of this board since Tenth Month 12th, 
1897. During most of the term of his membership he has served 
on the commiteee on college property and farm, and since 1906 
has been chairman of that committee. His extensive knowledge 
and sound judgment in regard to all matters pertaining to build- 
ing construction, the care of the campus and farm management 
have been of great service to the college. His counsel in other de- 
partments has been valuable. His concern that the student body 
of Haverford should grow in a proper proportion to the increasing 
endowment, and his able report on that subject, were particularly 

Perhaps his appointment on the Westtown committee 
was the one that Samuel L. Allen enjoyed most in many 
ways. As a boy he had gone there to school, and two 
daughters were alumnae, and he felt it to be a very 
vital part of the life of the Society of Friends. So he 
turned his talents to the solution of the various prob- 
lems as they came before his sub-committees with keen 
interest and excellent effect. 



A friend said to me: 

He never said anything unless it was worth while, and usually 
sat listening intently. He never put in little comments, but after 
hearing what others had to say reviewed in a few sentences pre- 
ceding remarks and concluded with his own opinion. 

In this also he resembled his mother, and as I went 
to Arch Street Meeting with the other Select School 
girls Aunt Beckie said to me with such loving pride, 
"Does thee notice how Grandma never speaks to 
business until the other Friends have all spoken, and 
then she says a few words that seem so exactly right, 
the clerk usually embodies them in her minute ?" 

In the formation of the Old Scholars' Association my 
father saw the wonderful opportunity that such an or- 
ganization could give to the Yearly Meeting to unite 
the interests of all ages in one broad co-operative effort 
for the advancement of the school, and the hopes of 
that early band of workers are being splendidly realized. 

Thomas K. Brown says of him in this connection : 

Samuel L. Allen took a very prominent part in organizing 
the W. O. S. A., and was its president for three years. During 
this time I was his close adviser. The whole scheme was a large 
one, and he gave it his best thought, and I came really to under- 
stand something of his good common sense, his practical sagacity 
and his unfailing courtesy. In all our private talks about people 
to fill one position or another, and in all public discussions where 
he was sometimes strongly opposed to the prevailing views, I 
never heard him say one word which I wished he had not, nothing 
for which one had to make allowance. 

A friend wrote us : 

* * * Samuel L. Allen was a rare man, and I am so glad it 
was my privilege to know him well during the past fifteen years 



by coming in contact with him in the early days of the Old Scholars' 
Association, then in the Ozone Club, and later in the management 
of the Friends' Hospital. In all these totally different organiza- 
tions Samuel Allen gave to each a standing and dignity which few 
men have the ability to do. His associates will miss not only his 
good judgment, but most of all his cordial greeting which came 
from the heart. 

In speaking of the connection of my father with the 
Social Order Committee of Philadelphia Yearly Meet- 
ing, J. Henry Bartlett says: 

Samuel L. Allen accepted this appointment ih 1917, after he 
had commenced to withdraw from such responsibilities. It was 
urged upon him for two evident reasons. He was one of the 
principal employers of labor in the Society, and it was well known 
that in his large manufacturing plant some very important steps 
had been taken in co-operation between capital and labor. He 
was therefore to represent the point of view of experience, in con- 
siderations that had been prompted very largely by what might 
be described as academic idealism. 

From the very beginning of the discussion he was impressed 
with the dangers of ignorance in this, as in all fields. In private 
conversations on the subject he said repeatedly, "We don't know 
enough, we don't know enough!" For his own part he deter- 
mined to know. So, in season and out, as he came upon those 
whose experience and views he valued, he made use of his extraor- 
dinary power of questioning to draw them out, and to challenge 
all that was hazy or merely assumed. In the same spirit he worked 
over questionnaires and over proposed declarations of principles. 
The observations and questions written upon such are sure signs 
of how indefatigable he was in the effort to establish some immov- 
able foundation stone, even for speculative considerations. 

While thus impatient of ignorance — his own ignorance and that 
of others — he was by no means inhospitable to the thought that 
the present social order may be very imperfect, and require radical 
change in several directions. On one occasion the Dennis Milner 
scheme of state bonuses was mentioned to him and briefly ex- 



plained. His observation was, "Why not give that principle a 
fair trial in the Society of Friends by devising some extension of 
present practices, until the standards of the poorest are advanced 
to a fair average?" 

This hospitable attitude toward honest inquiry in the difficult 
field of social order is emphasized in the report of the committee 
to the Yearly Meeting in 1919. The following paragraph from 
that report shows that in his brief connection with the committee 
he made no inconsiderable contribution: 

"On Third Month 28th, 1918, this committee lost by death its 
senior member. Samuel L. Allen took a deep interest in the plans 
of the committee, and attended every stated meeting except the 
two immediately preceding his death. When on its appointment 
he was asked to express in writing his views regarding the function 
of such a committee, he began, "I will be specially interested in 
the regulation and improvement of social and industrial condi- 
tions." After expressing his thought on different aspects of the 
problem, he concluded, "In a word, nothing perhaps would do 
more good than the creation of a helpful Christian attitude where- 
ever we are." This message of our friend, who was among the 
most advanced of his time in practical schemes for the welfare of 
his employees, your committee desires to keep ever in the fore- 

A member of this committee wrote : 

He was always so kind and genial toward me so much his 
junior. I think of him as one truly interested in seeking to serve 
undertakings for the good of others, and I have appreciated his 
open-mindedness towards progressive ideas. 

Had my father been younger he would have enjoyed 
the study necessary for so vast a subject, but the im- 
possibility of his having either the time or strength 
desirable weighed on him heavily. He was feeling the 
effects and the reaction from his struggle with war 
conditions, and had also done much for his own em- 



One night he brought home a list of books suggested 
by the committee for reading in connection with a 
course of lectures, and he said over and over, "Fifty 
books! Think of it! Fifty books on this one subject! 
Why, it's hopeless; I can never read them, never!" I 
am sure he would have been thankful to have scrapped 
the whole then and there, but instead he spent the 
evening going over and over the titles, thinking deeply. 

He felt the responsibility of the appointment, and 
often walked the floor, hands in pockets, head down, 
striving to reconcile with more theoretical views his 
own intense convictions crystallized by lifelong prac- 
tical experience. 

His keen mind instantly seized the weak point of a 
question or argument, yet he ever sought the truth. 
I remember vividly one evening in Miami, Florida, 
after such a struggle with a series of questions, he re- 
lieved his mind by talking them over with us and read- 
ing his answers. Relative to this matter I have found 
a small piece of paper in his desk, with two penciled 
sentences on it, dated 2-23-17, and signed with his "A." 
They are printed here without revision: 

It would probably be right to tax the wealthy and well-to-do, 
to ameliorate or make happy or happier the lot of the sick, halt, 
maimed, blind, incompetent, demented, drunkards, the unde- 
serving and those born tired. 

As successful people are also necessary people, because they 
make up the taxable class, it would be wise to make the taxes far 
from confiscatory, and it would seem well that the thinking 
Socialists in their upper strata should be utilized to distribute the 
toll from the rich among the poorer Socialists, to make their lives 
comfortable and hopeful, in a word, substitute usefulness for study 
and talk. 



My father's belief in the value of individual effort 
was very strong, and he knew too well the joy of 
achievement and its incentive to fresh endeavor to feel 
tolerant of any theory which had as a basic principle 
the destruction of initiative. Once he was asked unex- 
pectedly to make a few remarks at a meeting where 
papers had been read on Social Problems considered 
from a modern standpoint. I was not present, but a 
delighted auditor gave me the story later, saying: 

Samuel Allen rose slowly and thoughtfully, and began to speak 
with perfect ease and composure, about as follows, saying, in part: 
"He had not looked into the subject from the standpoint of books 
and papers or magazines, and had spent no time in study, but he 
had listened to what they had to say, and he could tell them a few 
things from his own experience. He believed it was right for em- 
ployers to look after their employees — that the sick should be 
cared for by benefits, that the old should be cared for by pen- 
sions, and the best welfare of all employees looked after; if the 
employer were a Christian man he would be a good steward. 
But as 96% of all business men failed, he could not see what was 
to become of all these failures, if men who could succeed were not 
allowed to succeed. 

"He also quoted a favorite historical example of the failure of 
Communism in the Colony of Jamestown, Virginia. The first 
year the Governor told every one to bring all of their harvests to 
a common storehouse, that all might share alike; but so little 
work was done the Colonists nearly starved to death. Thereafter 
each family raised enough for its own needs, and all had plenty, 
and the Colony prospered." 

My friend concluded the account by saying, "I was 
proud of him. It was a finished speech." Another 
said, "O, didn't Samuel hit the nail on the head!" 
While the father of two college graduates, with a third 
in embryo, said to him, "Samuel, all thee has to do is 



just to go to some college graduate — and they will tell 
thee all about it." 

Surely it is a subject requiring the best thought of 
each of us; we need vision, but tempered with experi- 
ence, which should produce a seasoned judgment. Sin- 
cerity of purpose is an asset, but insufficient of itself, 
and balance is a necessity. We do not find without seek- 
ing, but we were not given wings. We should use our 
feet — and keep them on the earth. 





HENRY BARTLETT, writing of my aunt Susan 
R. Williams and her remarkable influence with 
* teachers, says: 

Perhaps we could not do better than let a devoted friend of 
teachers, the lamented Samuel L. Allen, tell the secret. We have 
heard him more than once descant on the teaching gift in long-to-be- 
remembered terms. Two good women, he would say, exercised 
this gift in his early school life quite pre-eminently. They were 
Lucinda Lake and Susan R. Williams. It was not that they gave 
him new or needed zest for acquisition of knowledge, not that 
they schooled him in method, not even that they served as inter- 
preters of the highest. All these are counted as part of the teaching 
gift, but they are quite insignificant in comparison with the power 
to draw out of anyone the very best that is in him. This our good 
friend would repeat was their power pre-eminently. 

A young man said to me one day, "I would give 
anything if I had one special talent," and many another 
has felt the same. For such cases, or indeed for any 
student, my father recommended a year in business 
before finishing a college course, when the practical 
experience would help to crystallize mere inclina- 
tions or develop unsuspected tastes. He also believed 
in as full preparatory training as possible, thinking it 
better sometimes for a man to borrow money or take 
out life insurance if short of funds, than to have to 
enter his lifework poorly prepared. 


I have been interested in the notes for the few re- 
marks my father made when he donned "the manager's 
hat and coat" of Haverford College in 1897, and in- 
clude a portion here: 

* * * The advantages of college training have long shown them- 
selves prominently to me in business life. Men of average ability 
with Westtown training only, fail in my experience as analysts 
in mechanical experiment, research and construction; while the 
same men with a college course added, develop into equals or com- 
panions in effort, whose experiments or deductions one must 
carefully weigh before criticism, and whose analytical thought 
carries many a difficult problem to a successful issue. 

The gain seems to be largely in the increased intellectual powers. 
An amusing incident a few days ago showed this, for upon asking 
two college men and one practical foreman a simple question, 
"Which way a square bar of metal is stronger, sidewise or edge- 
wise?" all three were wrong. They were all short on the facts in 
this case. The college men, however, looked the question up in a 
few moments, and produced the proper formulae and answer. 

I find college training does not teach men taste in designing. 
Possibly there is an opportunity in this for the future. I am fond 
of believing that in such matters utility is beauty. So we may 
conclude also, that in construction, ugly lines are a sure indication 
of bad construction. 

I think as a manufacturing nation we will in the future need 
training which assists most in discovery, in construction, and in 
the arts. 

I feel, however, so far removed from knowledge of or partici- 
pation in modern study, so lost in the new phraseology of science 
and research that it is with a sigh of relief the thought comes that 
practical dealing with the details of advanced education are so 
happily placed in the hands of learned and accomplished faculties." 

Certainly education was always one of the strongest 
interests of my father's life, and in his papers on this 
subject he expressed his broad and advanced ideas of 



what he thought was wise and valuable for the average 
student. Twenty years after these were written I find 
in the Public Ledger of May 20th, 1919, the following in 
a letter from Baltimore: 

Johns Hopkins University, one of the leading and most conserva- 
tive universities in the United States, has just announced that 
Latin and Greek have been abolished as requirements for entrance 
to the university, and for admission to the A.B. and the B.S. 
degrees. Not only is it no longer required for entrance to the 
engineering course, but even in the arts course it has ceased to be a 
qualification for the bachelor's degree. 

In taking this step Hopkins is but following the other prominent 
universities of the country. Today over one hundred and ten 
colleges and universities, including Yale and Columbia, require 
neither Latin nor Greek for entrance to the A.B. degree. Princeton 
no longer requires Latin for the bachelor of science degree nor Greek 
for the bachelor of arts degree. 

* * * In the bulletin on medical education issued a few days 
ago by the United States Bureau of Education, Latin is totally 
eliminated from the "required" subjects for the study of medicine, 
and is not even mentioned among the "subjects strongly urged." 

In extracts from an address read at Friends' Select 
School, Philadelphia, 1890, Samuel L. Allen speaks 
further of his studies, and their comparative usefulness 
to him in later life, and then says: 

* * * I think this assembly might profitably form themselves 
into an association, if its main object were only to collate at its 
meetings the views of graduates as to which studies had been most 
valuable to them in their daily lives ; what additions to their cur- 
riculum would have been useful and gratifying, and for what it 
would have been best to substitute them. A comparison of these 
views might lead to improvements in practical education, and a 
more ready appreciation of the rapid advances of the present age 
of research and travel, and intercourse between nations. 



In my own experience, the plea of great usefulness for the classics 
has perhaps scarcely been realized, since five years of Latin find 
me today scarcely able to follow a Latin reading, because of the 
remarkable changes in pronunciation — nor able to make com- 
fortably a simple translation, for want of use; while even the Greek 
alphabet is almost forgotten. But one winter of French clings to me 
today to the extent that a French letter or paper is still fairly 
intelligible, and the pronunciation yet seems possible, while even 
Spanish unfolds to some extent before this one winter of French. 

Classics are an excellent discipline for the mind, the best I ever 
had, yet three winters of German convince me that there may be 
ample training, too, in that. 

* * * In conclusion, however, I wish to express how very 
highly I have valued the privileges that we did enjoy under our 
Alma Mater. I think no one can stand before me in appreciation 
of the debt we owe her. 

In 1901 Samuel L. Allen was asked to speak before 
Friends' Teachers Association, on "Our Schools From a 
Business Man's Standpoint." As usual lie read a care- 
fully prepared paper, and a very few extracts follow : 

* * * Early in my manufacturing career I was told that no 
matter how excellent a product might be, even if it were as perfect 
as the human body itself, it would not sell without being pushed; 
now in pushing any line of business, one of the first things needed 
is the command of sufficient capital. And in regard to capital I was 
also much impressed when a business man said to me that no man 
need complain of lack of capital for legitimate business, because 
there was an abundance continually seeking men capable of han- 
dling it. 

* * * There are many positions of trust in manufacturing. 
The superintendent, the draftsman, the traveling salesman, the 
bookkeeper, the correspondent, the buyer, all occupy positions of 
trust. In a word, every position is one of trust, let us never forget 
that; down even to the boy who sweeps out; he must not steal your 
postage stamps, and must sweep the corners if you give him time, 



and must be conscientiously diligent. No eyeservers wanted 
anywhere, and if any employee cannot be trusted he should be dis- 

* * * We want schools, therefore, to establish first of all, 
sturdy moral character, including honor, industry, integrity of 
purpose, perseverance, and trustworthiness. 

* * * For many years the plea of the educator was for a 
well-trained mind, and there was nothing like Latin and Greek for 
that. As a student I believed it, and scarcely doubted it for decades. 

The mind was to be like a polished shaft, erected indeed with 
much turmoil and scaffolding, but once finished, the process could 
be forgotten, and the beautiful monument remain. 

Let us rather liken the trained mind to a magnificent locomotive, 
threading its resistless way over rivers and under them, through 
dark tunnels, and over the mountain tops, but forever pressing 
safely and swiftly forward to its destination, laden with material 

What the manufacturer wants is one who can take a problem 
and press through difficulties and reach its very core ; one who says 
at a glance, "This does not matter, that does not influence the ques- 
tion; the real question is beneath all this," and by analytical 
thought lays the very heart of the problem naked before his mind's 
eye, and solves it then and there. 

German and French, mathematics and mechanics, may all be 
taught so as to train the mind and concentrate the thought — let 
them be so taught. Let Latin grammar be taught thoroughly, and 
read on through Virgil; that we may know whence our language 
is derived and purify it; know what our words mean and use the 
best; and then substitute German and French, practical and 
technical studies in such thorough mode that the mind is perfectly 
trained, and the power of analytical thought is given its birthright. 

And let the glamour of commencement day soon be forgotten, 
in the daily battles and victories of mature manhood and woman- 

May 12, 1901. 



About 1905 he read a paper, probably before the 
Educational Association, on "What Shall be the Educa- 
tion for the Boys of the Future?" Extracts are taken 
from the latter part of the article as they express so 
clearly his ardent belief in as liberal and practical an 
education as possible for the average student, "in 
combination with some classics, literature and art." 

* * * When we were largely an agricultural people, the short 
school term was associated with long summer vacations, during 
which the students worked on the farm, and in the winter mornings 
and evenings did the chores, thus becoming familiar with a great 
deal of practical work; much knowledge was thus gained both from 
the occupation and from observation, and the student's zest in 
study was often greatly increased. Later, when schools were kept 
open nearly all the year, the winter scholars kept almost even with 
the summer students in their studies, and doubtless equaled them 
in mental training. But in these days when our attention is being 
turned so rapidly from agriculture to manufactures, and families 
more seldom live on the farm, but rather in villages and cities, 
the practical life out of school is largely wanting; and under these 
circumstances it would be a serious mistake if children were taught 
nothing but culture studies. Too often that has the very bad 
effect of making them dissatisfied with their surroundings, because 
offering them but little assistance in the practical work which so 
generally becomes their lot. 

All parents know that going to school in our day so fully occupies 
the time and strength of their children that there is but little or 
none left of either for the practical matters of the daily routine. 
It may have been well enough when but a few months a year were 
devoted to study to omit practical matters; but it would be a 
tremendous boon to many children on leaving school now to feel 
they know how to take hold of daily life problems, and to pursue 
them with pleasure, from having had thorough instruction in the 
laws and practice of utilities. 

Going a little further, the college and university courses produce 
graduates who, though not sufficient in number to teach half of our 



youth, still largely go into other avenues and there find too late 
that they are not prepared for practical things and have no taste 
for them. For example, while it is common for students in electrical 
and civil engineering to have situations awaiting them upon gradu- 
ating, this can hardly be said of culture study students. 

* * * As a people, we are largely wanted to help build 
railroads and steamships; blow glass and make plows. We want 
to melt and hammer. and punch and drill and bend; tunnel and 
climb; plan, draw and calculate; to sew, to cook, make bread 
and clothing. There is need for but a few teachers and professors, 
few poets, few historians, few great writers; but we want many 
workers in material things, not that all engage in the practical 
work with their own hands, but they need to know what it means 
even when they are called upon to direct others. 

* * * We want to live in this world, and in it we want to be 
able to make a living. That is what it comes to for most of us. A 
few amongst us may not have to do this, but it is the lot of by far the 
major portion of mankind. Let us then teach the children mathe- 
matics, science, philosophy; civil and electrical engineering, 
modern languages, sewing, cooking, in combination with some 
classics, literature and art. 

And let all these be taught thoroughly; the ultimate object 
being to combine knowledge with practice, and before all to train 
the judgment and the power of analytical thought. 

Any suggestions upon education are necessarily more or less 
general, though I think they indicate that the selection of a course 
of study for any child may depend largely upon his expected 
avocation and environment ; but the bent or inclination should be 
watched carefully also, as it is most discouraging and in many cases 
futile to select an art course for a natural mechanic, engineering for 
a poetic temperament, or mathematics for an artist. 

* * * President Sharpless of Haverford College says: 
"Every child ought to have just the mental nourishment which 
is best adapted to develop him, and no one course is best for every- 

But we want practical people for every-day life; if possible, let 
them be people of grasp, power and judgment; and not very many 



poets and writers and dreamers ; and when this is brought about by 
suitable education we will need fewer teachers of culture and art, 
but more who train for usefulness and to love of work, and conse- 
quent happiness. 

* * * Above all, we want our children taught absolute hon- 
esty of intention and purpose, that all they may make or do shall 
be their best and thus make useful and happy lives. 

I think that the world right around us, now, is most apprecia- 
tive, perhaps more appreciative than ever, of honest work, upright 
dealing, first-quality products, whether potatoes or silks, tomatoes 
or implements, animals or engines. 

In a word, we want to understand better that utility is beauty; 
and to interpret better the meaning of a favorite old saying, tried 
and true, by the addition of a word; and declare henceforth that 
practical knowledge is power. * * * 

And now I must read you a few lines from our poets and get their 
standpoint: "Let us then be up and doing." — Longfellow. "Lose 
this day loitering, 'twill be the same story, etc." 



ON the eleventh of Twelfth Month, 1903, my 
brother married Henrietta Benson, of Providence, 
Rhode Island, and as they went to Bermuda on 
their wedding trip father wrote them there: 

Well, the wedding is agreed by all to have been a great success 
in every way: the meeting, the way you said the ceremony, the 
reception; all were very satisfactory. The ushers' work was 
excellent * * * 

What was our dismay on receiving their first letter, 
to learn that Henrietta had developed typhoid fever on 
the voyage and was doing well at the Cottage hospital, 
Hamilton. Happily her illness was tedious rather than 
dangerous, and they were able to have some pleasure 
before coming home, and Charlie looked up business 
and played golf. 

My dear boy: 

Thy letter was interesting and thee is doubtless storing away 
considerable information. I think thee will have no difficulty in 
getting anywhere in manufacturing establishments by presenting 
thy card and our catalogue, saying thee is S. L. Allen's son if 
necessary. Be bold and very frank, and talk right out. * * * 
Thee ought to cultivate a good substantial signature to be used at 
all times, with care. 

They lived first at Rose Cottage a few doors below 
us on the main street, then at Hillside where we now 
live, which was built by Elisha Roberts in 1876; while 



today they own a lovely home on Oak avenue which 
was father's and mother's present to them a short time 
ago and their children have ample space to run and 
play. My father was keenly interested in the develop- 
ment of each child and it was a great delight that the 
three boys are all mechanical and very skillful with 
tools, an inheritance from both sides of their house, 
and Esther can do anything with her hands. 

(S. L. A. to Mother at Belleair, 3-4-1911.) 

* * * I took supper with Charlie's family last evening and 
saw the two older children before they went to bed. They grew 
tired and fractious with some crying, but just then Charlie came in 
and immediately took them in charge and quieted them. We had a 
nice supper and talked over the family afterwards; then Charlie 
and I went upstairs and viewed the flock. Rodman was fast 
asleep and as happy as possible; has never been any other way! 
He finally stirred a little, but did not cry. His hands and feet are 
perfect miniatures of their kind. He has a good deal of hair, some- 
what curly and in every way seems to be a model. Dr. Richie 
says "he is the finest ever." 

Then we took a look at Junior. He was a picture lying flat on 
his back, both arms out, one folded with hand closed, the other arm 
straight and hand extended. He had plenty of color in cheeks and 
lips, and with a setting of golden hair, he was a remarkably lovely 
picture ! Then Esther, but she flinched from the light and covered 
her face with her bent arm. A well-ordered family ! All five seem 
in perfect health, Charlie, perhaps, the most hardy and handsome 
of all! So we may be thankful for all this good fortune and hope 
for its continuance. I had a pleasant evening and left a happy 
family there. It is a hard time to handle the two older ones but 
I think they will come safely through. 

In 1909, my grandfather, Elisha Roberts, died of 
pneumonia after ten days' illness, in his eighty-eighth 
year. Mother was with him almost constantly and the 



night lie died she had a heavy chill and double pneu- 
monia developed at once. She was critically ill but 
finally recovered and six weeks later was able to receive 
at her daughter Emily's wedding and to sail for Europe, 
as planned, a sea voyage being considered a splendid 

On 5-26 my sister Emily Hooton married W. Henry 
Elfreth, and although the weather had been uncertain 
the supper could be served on the lawn in sunshine, 
though it poured all through the night. They went to 
New York to see us sail, and later joined us for a few 
delightful weeks in England. We were most happy to 
have Susan W. Janney and J. Henry and Jane W. 
Bartlett with us part of the time, and they added greatly 
to our pleasure. Sue crossed a steamer later, and as 
usual we followed the links, and the chapter, "Golfing 
in England," was written by my father. 

As my mother had now had pneumonia three times 
in less than five years, we dared not risk another winter 
or early spring in the North, and soon after New Year's 
we were comfortably settled at Belleair, Florida. 
Father and Sue left us there in Third Month, 1911, and 
after a few busy weeks at home they met us at Charles- 
ton, South Carolina, and went on to Summerville with 
us, where Henry and Emily arrived some hours later. 
We had a delightful visit together for a few days, then 
Henry and Emily went home and we four to The Bonair, 
Augusta, Georgia. Here Susan W. Janney and J. 
Henry and Jane W. Bartlett joined us, and shortly we 
all left for California, via New Orleans, Albuquerque 
and the Santa Fe. 

We spent several weeks in Pasadena in a delightful 



cottage of the Hotel Maryland, calling it the Albarja, 
the Allen Bartlett Janney cottage, and our winter 
together was a great delight. 

As the house at Pocono was nearing completion it 
seemed best for me to return and attend to details, 
giving my father and mother and Sue the opportunity 
of visiting the Yosemite and going as far north as Seattle. 

This was the beginning of Sue's private collection and 
business of fine rare Indian baskets, blankets and curios, 
and her success and the astonishing increase in her 
sales were a source of much gratification to father. 
The Pocono home proved to be an appropriate place to 
enjoy them, and father delighted in arranging the beau- 
tiful baskets and beadwork to the best advantage. 

He also felt it would be a great saving of time and 
energy, if necessary shopping for Pocono could be com- 
bined with sightseeing and a pleasure made of this 
business, and constantly urged and encouraged us to 
make such purchases. What a delight it was to do so, 
and how these are valued today ! 

My brother came out for a few weeks to help father 
try a new machine for cultivating sugar beets, and it 
was a great pleasure to work together and splendid 
practice for Charlie. Coming home on the train father 
worked almost constantly, designing and drafting im- 
provements indicated by the experiments, and became 
very tired, and soon after his return to Pocono was 
critically ill, shingles developing over the left eye. All 
through Tenth Month, day after day, we worked and 
watched for improvements that were almost impercep- 
tible. The Inn had closed long before and Edwin Hoopes 
feared that the water might freeze any time, and we 



were the only cottagers left. Finally, on the second of 
Eleventh Month, in a snow flurry, we were able to move 
him home in a special car, but he almost died on the 

Dr. Joseph Stokes came to see him every few hours 
at first and was finally able to help him make the turn. 
It was long before my father regained his health and 
the use of his eye, but he played golf with one eye 
somehow at Belleair the next winter, and dictated busi- 
ness letters to mother. Finally his robust constitution 
asserted itself and once more he was able to take up his 
ever-increasing round of duties. 

The same autumn at home my mother had erysipelas 
and a reinfection at Belleair six weeks later, with 
practically the complete loss of sight of her left eye; 
but constant care after many years has restored the 
sight sufficiently to recognize persons, as the spot on the 
retina has been slowly absorbed. 

Our summers at Pocono were a very great pleasure to 
my father and he enjoyed the new home and the golf 
links there like a boy. It suited him exactly to have 
some time each week at the plant, he being more busy 
in summer than in winter, as contracts for steel, the 
annual meeting of the salesmen and office force, and 
the close of the fiscal year occurred in the Seventh 
Month ; and he always wrote the catalogue in summer. 

I am very glad that we had our training in driving and 
riding in automobiles with my father, for it certainly 
was an experience. To ride with him from Phila- 
delphia to Pocono or from Pocono to the city on his 
weekly trips was something to remember, not only on 
account of the varied and beautiful scenery but because 



of his attitude to the whole event. The mechanism of 
the car interested him only in the results obtainable, 
and to go from Philadelphia to Pocono "on high" 
proved as absorbing an occupation as to watch the time 
and count out any minutes' delay caused by a tire or 
other stops. I think four hours, more or less, according 
to the road and the route, was the average running 
time, and he was always glad of an excuse to stop at 
Easton and buy bananas and vegetables at the very 
attractive market. It was necessary to have a skillful 
driver and in city traffic father always knew just what 
could be done. He heaved a sigh once when we failed 
to pass a wagon at the proper moment, and I said, 
"Why, father, isn't there plenty of time?" "O yes," 
he replied, "but it is the error of judgment I mind 
more than anything else." Of one man father said, 
"He could see a wagon two blocks away, yet he never 
made up his mind to pass it until he got just where he 
could not do it!" Finally with a Cadillac and Edward 
Ludnum as chauffeur, we thoroughly enjoyed riding, 
and were comfortable in knowing that father was well 
cared for. 

We were at Pocono when the incredible happened and 
war was declared. My father realized at once what this 
would mean to our foreign trade and the business 
world at large, matters growing worse instead of better 
as days and months went on. It seemed the only thing 
he could do was to increase our home trade by the in- 
troduction of new and lighter hand tools that could be 
used by women and boys and girls, but the anxiety of 
those four years and the great strain in connection with 
invention and carrying on the business were really his 



death warrant. Dr. Stokes has since told me that 
father's blood pressure at this time went up twenty -five 
points and never came down. 

I used to think nothing was more delightful than to 
listen to my father tell of something he wished to do. 
"True fairy stories" I called them, for they seemed as 
wonderful and unusual to me as such tales, and yet 
father's always came true. He delighted to talk over 
plans for the flowers and gardens, or improvements to 
make at home or in the Plant, or some delightful trip 
to Europe or California, or a new horse or automobile. 
He invested any subject with such charm that I 
listened fascinated. We were very congenial, and from 
my earliest recollections I always counted the quality 
of the character of my parents as my greatest blessing. 
I rejoiced in them, and the whole world might go by. 

More than ever since my father's death have I found 
my mother the most delightful of companions, and I 
realize as never before what her sweetness and calm, her 
cheerfulness and never failing sympathy must have 
meant to him. Her poise is wonderful and an example 
to us all and the most remarkable comments have been 
made on her beauty of character and expression. 

As the time approached for my parents' golden wed- 
ding, Eleventh Month, twenty-second, 1916, it seemed 
that a fitting recognition of it should be made. Theirs 
was the fourth in our immediate neighborhood, Clayton 
and Mary Conrow and Heulings and Annie Lippincott 
had celebrated theirs a year or two before, while Alex- 
ander C. and Mary Emma S. Wood's anniversary had 
been in the previous Sixth Month. As not infrequently 
happened, mother was taken sick after the invitations 



were out, and an entire postponement seemed so pos- 
sible that recalls were prepared ready to send if neces- 
sary. Happily Dr. Stokes was able to cure her for the 
great event, so she did not feel weary after the recep- 
tion, when she reluctantly retired near ten o'clock. The 
hours were from four until seven, and many dear friends 
came to offer their congratulations on so remarkable an 
occasion. The house was beautiful with just enough 
flowers, including lovely bouquets from friends and the 
office. The conservatory windows were open and golden 
and bronze chrysanthemums leaned in through them, 
making a charming background for the table placed 
just in front. 

When the guests had left, we gathered in the lovely 
golden parlor to recall the many delightful events of the 
evening, and after a time father said, "Esther, I want 
to shake hands with thee, has thee had a good time?" 
"Yes indeed," was the reply, and lo! she held a five- 
dollar gold piece! Each grandchild had the same 
Midas-like experience, while the handshake with each 
daughter and the daughter-in-law proved four times 
as valuable! 

Charlie and Hettie gave a basket of Ivystone prod- 
ucts trimmed with boxbush and ivy, while two dressed 
chickens sat as on a nest, one wearing a bonnet and 
shawl and the other a collar and tuft of feathers. They 
were roasted for First day dinner and all the children 
and grandchildren invited. Little Elizabeth Hooton 
Elfreth asked if they were the chickens from the basket 
and burst into tears sobbing, "That's just exactly the 
thing I did not want to have happen!" This letter 
came with the basket : 



Eleventh Month 22d, 1916. 
Dearest Father and Mother: 

This rough basket of late fruits of the farm comes with a message 
of love from the new master of " Ivy stone " to the old. 

Lest you forget — lest you forget — the first home of the bride of 
fifty years ago — the birthplace of your children, the foundation of 
your prosperity. 

The ivy and the box, the chestnut and the oak, how eloquent with 
tales of a happy, rural, past! Memory will fill for you the pictures 
of many homely scenes — of your early married life on the farm. 

As I picked up the pretty acorns in their fringed, rustic baskets 
and stood beneath the spreading branches of that oak, my thoughts 
wandered back to mother, the tall slender bride, who may have 
sometimes waited on that self same spot for father to come in from 
his chores to the evening meal. And then another picture came to 
me — Charlie's dream picture, away off in the future, dim and in- 
distinct — that of "Ivystone" a model farm where many men were 
busy operating the wonderful machines father's great genius had 

And so the Past and the Future were beautiful to think about. 

May we as this golden autumn is blending with winter, express 
our delight in this joyous day, and thank you more than words can 
express for your bounteous gifts to us. 

It is our wish to help in making this day a glorious one for you. 
I hope the children will be good and so add much to your pleasure. 

Most affectionately, 

Charles J. and Henrietta B. Allen. 

Although the invitations requested that no gifts be 
sent there were a few from very intimate friends, while 
the brothers and sisters sent a beautiful electric lamp 
with golden shade. The lines accompanying it written 
by Uncle David were so appropriate they are included 



To both of you, brother and sister dear, 
Who together have lived, these fifty years, 
And whose lives, the Lord from his home above. 
Has pleased to bless with Heavenly Love, 
We each of us our greetings send, 
From hearts in which joy and love do blend. 
To show our love, though in small degree, 
This Lamp we send, that you may see, 
To knit or sew, to read or write: 
No matter now how dark the night. 
We thank the Lord, who for you hath cared, 
And with you, and us, His blessings shared. 
May your lives and ours so guarded be, 
That when He calls, His light we'll see, 
Which will lead us on to the Throne above 
Where forever more is endless Love. 


David Roberts 
Eijzabeth L. Roberts 
Elizabeth H. Richie 
Jos. H. Roberts 
Mart C. Roberts 
Wm. H. Roberts 
Elizabeth S. Roberts 

Susan Walker Janney has been a close friend of my 
mother's from Westtown days, and Sue is named for her. 
She wrote us soon after my father's death: 

It was in the intimate life of his home with his devoted wife and 
children, that the most lovable qualities of Samuel Allen's nature 
expressed themselves. His keen sympathy with the talents and 
ambitions of the young people placed opportunity within their 
reach, and happily led them on to development and achievement in 
their different lines. His unfailing courtesy, quick sense of humor 
and varied and accurate information, made him in the home circle 
an idolized comrade. 

I find it very difficult to realize that he is indeed gone, so vibrant 
with life and energy and interest was he, when I last was with him. 



But he has fought the good fight, never faltering, and has earned 
the rest, and peace and joy, into which he has triumphantly 

Thus the brave sower saw his ripened grain. 
And those who loved him mourn no blighted 
hope nor broken plan, 

With him whose life stands rounded and approved 
In the full growth and stature of a man. 

— Whittier 




SUE continues: 
Our Hazel was the thoroughbred daughter of Uncle Will's 
Irish setter Bess, and her coloring and hazel eyes made the 
name appropriate. She was a delightful companion on our walks 
and drives and when Charlie went gunning, although she had had 
no training for hunting. She would run tirelessly, through the 
fields, just keeping the carriage in sight and our general direction. 
She also understood perfectly when we told her "it was meeting 
day," and she could not go. My long and often lonely horseback 
rides she found particularly enjoyable, as we went off the beaten 
highway, and there was more possibility that she would scare up a 
rabbit, or game of some kind. Hazel went with us from Ivystone 
to Breidenhart, and we thoroughly enjoyed the harmony of her 
rich coloring in our new home. 

Meg, my fox terrier, was given to me very soon after we went to 
Breidenhart, her mother being owned by one of our first gardeners. 
So Meg was born there, and lived out her full life of fifteen years. 
She too was devoted to going in the carriage with me while Hazel 
ran, and her eager enjoyment with her nose over the dash, and 
her shining eyes, are not easily forgotten. 

The advent of Lord Bobbs at Breidenhart in 1914 was an event 
which many will remember. He was nine months old, and almost 
full grown, and larger than the average Great Dane, his father 
having been said to be the largest of his kind exhibited in Great 
Britain. Father admired him greatly, though we were nearly all 
somewhat afraid of him at first when it came to a question of 
crossing him, but he immediately attached himself absolutely to 
my friend Mrs. Longenecker, who had brought him home for me. 
We were away so much, I found such a huge dog more of a respon- 



sibility than I expected; and when I found I would never be more 
than second fiddle in his affections, the following Christmas I 
presented him to Mrs. Longenecker, from whom he is never 
willingly separated. There are numerous anecdotes, some of them 
almost unbelievable, unless one were a friend of Lord Bobbs. 
Father was one of the few who fully valued and appreciated his 
sagacity, and valued as few others did his wonderful guarding of 
our home. 

Mrs. Longenecker had expected to send him away to a friend, 
until she left us, but whenever it was decided upon it was always 
father who asked to have him stay. There was no question that 
undesirable characters were kept away while he was in the house. 
Late one night, when other houses were entered, Patrick made a 
great fuss at the stable, and Lord Bobbs in the house. Footsteps 
and low voices were heard at the garage, but no attempt was 
made, though the colored man was frightened, and convinced the 
wrong kind of people were about, for on that night another car 
was stolen. 

Lord Bobbs did not like anything taken off the premises, and 
would object to the chauffeur doing inside work, or the gardener 
doing anything to the car. One day the man who usually took the 
rugs out to sweep, was away, and the chauffeur was asked to help 
the maid move them. Lord Bobbs decided this was a mistake, 
and planted himself in the middle of one and plainly threatened 
him, if he dared to do it. The man knew the dog well, and they 
were apparently good friends, but he had to call Mrs. Longenecker 
to say that Lord Bobbs would not let him take the rugs unless 
she told him it was all right. 

This sense of knowing the work of all the men and maids was 
striking, one illustration being difficult to believe. The house was 
locked at nine o'clock every night by one of the maids, including 
a certain basement door leading upstairs. One evening it had 
been locked earlier than usual, without Lord Bobb's knowledge, 
the regular maid being away. When Annie was ready to go 
upstairs, Bobbs prevented her, and tried to take her somewhere, 
pulling her toward these stairs. She hardly knew what to make of 
it, so called Mrs. Longenecker, and said, "I believe he thinks I 



didn't lock the basement door." That seemed a far guess, but 
Mrs. Longenecker said "I will try him," so she went down to the 
door, but turned to come back without touching the key. Then 
Bobbs kept her from coming up, showing he was not satisfied; 
but the minute she rattled the key, he bounded up stairs to the 
third story ahead of her, completely happy. 

The ice-man could put ice in the refrigerator without apparent 
notice, but he could not cross the kitchen for a drink of water 
without an invitation from the cook, seconded by Lord Bobbs. 

Once when I was ill in bed, Mrs. Longenecker and I were the 
only ones in the house, as she had sent all the maids out for the 
afternoon and evening. Lord Bobbs was quite uneasy, lying on 
the stair-landing instead of with her, as usual, moving back and 
forth to see that we were both all right. Late in the day Mrs. 
Longenecker went out for a short walk on the lawn, but Lord 
Bobbs would not let her go further than the tennis court, barking 
and tugging at her dress to bring her back. After supper she had 
to go down town on an errand, and took Lord Bobbs on the leash. 
He went most unwillingly, constantly trying to return; and she 
could hardly restrain him, when she opened the door, he dashing 
upstairs to see if I were all right. This is all the more remarkable 
to those who know how unwillingly he ever left Mrs. Longenecker, 
yet it shows that he had the rest of us on his mind when he felt he 
was in charge. Our long absences were a source of worry to him, 
trunks and suitcases being a dreaded sight, as he would try to hide 
the latter, carrying them under the table. Father, too, he always 
had a special greeting for, and always welcomed his return. 

Until Breidenhart was closed for the last time, Lord Bobbs 
continued to wait and watch for father's return, and would rush 
downstairs whenever he heard the front door close in a certain 
way, expecting him; then he would return, slowly 'and sadly, 
his disappointment very evident. 

Lord Bobbs loved Breidenhart, the place, the house, and those 
within it, and had his own way of recognizing them, and of greeting 
those who came to the place. His great size made him formidable, 
and he was greatly misunderstood and maligned while he lived in 
Moorestown. Now that Breidenhart is no longer ours, nor Lord 



Bobbs' special care, it is no more than just to say that in his new 
home he has found both friends and liberty, and the justice he 
was not fully accorded in Moorestown. 

As we grew older, at Breidenhart and Hooton Acre, father's 
liberality and continued interest in our individual hobbies led to 
many details of home comfort in which he delighted. The beau- 
tiful rooms of red and white mahogany and quartered oak at 
Breidenhart were valued by us all; and when Hooton Acre was 
built the curly pine downstairs and in my room, and the redwood 
furniture and "Hooton Acre" carved in the solid plank of red- 
wood, as a name, and other California touches, were examples of 
his love for beautiful wood. When I found my choice old-fashioned 
maple desk, whose equal I have never seen, I took father to see it, 
fearing it was entirely too valuable to belong to me. Instead, he 
said if I liked this so much, he should think I needed other furniture 
to correspond, and so he selected my highboy and bureau, and 
later I added the chairs and old chest when I could find them. 

So, too, with my lichen fireplace at Hooton Acre. Ever since 
our summer at Mohonk in 1894, I had remembered the beauty of 
the wonderful large gray lichens on the rocks there, and their soft 
gray-green, after rain, making them rarely beautiful. As Emily 
and I had no fireplace in our room at Breidenhart, this was one 
of the things I hoped for at Hooton Acre, and father was much 
interested in my idea of having it made of Mohonk stones. Letters 
on the subject resulted in their having their mason cut out rocks 
bearing these lichens, according to the size and plan of the fire- 
place we sent him. This was carefully done, and the stones 
watered, so that the lichens would be soft instead of brittle. They 
were then packed in barrels of wet sawdust, three to six in a 
barrel, and shipped to Pocono Summit. Here they were as care- 
fully unpacked, and kept wet, until the stones were all in place. 

There are two other hobbies that should not be omitted which 
grew to unexpected proportions, because of father's helpful en- 
couragement, one being the artistic expression of the other. 

I refer to my collection of American Indian baskets, blankets 
and curios, of which many of our friends know, and also to the 
making of my Indian book-plate, drawn on copper by Sidney L. 




Smith, of Boston, the only American with an international repu- 
tation then, and probably still the greatest living artist of this 

It was the spring of 1911 when I made my first trip to the West 
and California, and became so fascinated with the work of our 
American Indians, and when father helped me so much in selecting 
for my own collection. At the Grand Canyon we were all exceed- 
ingly interested in the wonderful Fred Harvey exhibit there, more 
particularly in the texture, quality and coloring of their fine old 
Navajo blankets, which we spent some hours in examining. After 
a selection of rugs had been made for Hooton Acre, my individual 
choice was a beautiful soft blanket, over a hundred years old, but 
in perfect condition. The price, however, I considered prohibitive, 
and was totally surprised when father included it for me. I was so 
delighted, as well as afraid of losing it, I carried it with me instead 
of putting it in the trunk. 

In California I became more and more interested in Indian 
baskets, and at San Jose we attended a meeting where the Northern 
California Indian Association made its annual report, and had a 
collection of very beautiful baskets for sale, which had come 
direct from their makers. These were not necessarily old speci- 
mens, but the weaving was so fine, and the workmanship so 
perfect and beautiful, we were charmed with them. Perhaps by 
this time I was not so surprised as the lady in charge, when father 
with our help began selecting, and paid for about twenty of them, 
which was the nucleus of my collection. 

An active interest in collecting Ex Libris had its origin about 
this time, California offering some interesting experiences. Through 
the influence and enthusiasm of Mr. H. Alfred Fowler, of Kansas 
City, I soon turned my attention to collecting engraved book- 
plates of E. D. French and J. W. Spenceley, both deceased, and 
of Sidney L. Smith of Boston, and Sherborn of England. Sidney 
Smith's work has a charm and delicacy unexcelled, and the variety 
of themes depicted assured me that Mr. Fowler's judgment was 
correct, and that Sidney Smith was the one man who could com- 
bine the ideas I wished in an Indian bookplate. Having already 
submitted the outlines to an artist or two, I was dismayed at the 



difficulties presented, not only the cost, but the fact that they 
wished to substitute their own ideas, practically eliminating all of 
mine and leaving little of the original thought. 

On a visit to Boston that summer I called on Mr. Smith, having 
been previously warned that he might not see me, that he would 
more than likely refuse to accept the commission, and in any 
event, it would be a year, maybe much longer, before he would 
finish my plate. If on the contrary, he should accept my order, I 
could be assured the result would be satisfying, and his work 
superior. None of those disappointing predictions proved true; 
on the contrary, my visit was a most delightful one, Mr. Smith 
showing me much of his exquisite work. He seemed greatly 
interested in my suggestions for a plate, and I suddenly realized 
the situation was reversed. Instead of the refusal I had been led 
to expect, he was anxious to execute the Indian ideas suggested, 
as he realized their artistic possibilities and the rather unusual 
theme, and was eager to undertake it. However, I felt his price 
was more than I ought to pay without having first asked father, 
though I knew it was modest for the work involved for one of his 
international reputation, as I had already been asked three times 
as much by a comparatively unknown man, who wished to elimi- 
nate most of my ideas. 

In showing me his work, there was one I greatly admired, and 
knew that father would especially appreciate, as it showed a trout 
rising to the fly, beautifully and simply portrayed. It was the 
plate of a fisherman, and one I knew it was difficult to secure by 
exchange; so that I was delighted when Mr. Smith autographed 
this proof for me, to show my father as an example of his work. 
I have often wondered whether Mr. Smith knew he had won the 
commission when he gave me that proof, for when father saw it 
the work was so accurate, exquisite and ideal, he made one of his 
instantaneous decisions, saying, "Let him do the work." 

Those who have seen my bookplate, the story of which is told 
above, seldom fail to appreciate its beauty and unusual charm. 
Indeed, one of the best known collectors of Ex Libris wrote me at 
the time he received his print, "There is nothing better on either 
side of the Atlantic." Whether Mr. Smith has excelled this work 


since, I do not know. Doubtless there are those who believe so, 
as I have learned anyone who is the proud possessor of an Ex 
Libris engraved by Sidney L. Smith is convinced there is none 
better than his own. 

There are so many recollections that were events at the time it 
is difficult to record them all, but I think the two long drives that 
I had with father should not be omitted from this account. The 
first was with father and mother, and Daisy and Gypsy in 1886, 
when we drove out to Westtown to visit Lillie, the drive being 
more vivid than much of the visit. Many years later, in 1904, 
with Roanoke, father and I drove to Cresco, where the family 
was to spend six weeks before going over to Pocono Manor for a 
month. This three-day trip was a most enjoyable one for me — 
but a striking contrast to that of the few hours it takes now in the 

Roanoke was a blue roan we bought about 1897. He served us 
faithfully at Ivystone and Breidenhart the rest of his life, until 
the house was closed in the fall of 1918. He was not young when 
we bought him, being nine years old, but still had plenty of life 
and was a splendid horse for us, gradually becoming willing to 
mow the large lawn, though disliking the cart; but he drew the 
line at ploughing, refusing this ignominy. He, too, was a splendid 
saddle horse, having a very easy canter and a fine trot, and the 
summer he was at Buck Hill and Pocono we had many delightful 
rides and drives exploring that beautiful country. 

In 1909 I learned to drive a car, and my first was a small Hupp. 
Prior to this, we had had at least one Pierce-Arrow in partnership 
with Charlie, but father soon wanted more use of the car, and 
after some years we usually had two, the smaller one being for 
me. It is needless to go into details concerning the various cars 
which followed, for without the individuality of the horse they 
became a necessity in our family life, though their merits or the 
pleasures they brought us were frequent subjects of conversation. 

Our last eight years at Breidenhart were made more comfortable 
and care-free through the excellent management of Emma 
Longenecker, to whom the supervision and care of the whole 
place was entrusted, during our winter and summer absences. 



Her services were particularly acceptable to father, for she could 
meet and solve trying situations with unusual success and common 
sense. Her excellent judgment and keen analysis of character, her 
sense of humor, her love of dogs and the out-of-doors, made her 
a delightful companion; while her skillful nursing in critical times 
endeared her to all of us. If Mrs. Longenecker were in charge of 
us father knew that the best thing would be done, whatever the 
emergency, and in the years she lived with us there were severe 
tests of her ability. 

Something worth while or unusual was sure to happen when 
she was the companion of any journey — as on our visits to the 
Indian Conferences at Mohonk, or to Washington to interview 
senators and Commissioner Sells on Indian questions. Once when 
I had not been well for a long time, nor allowed to drive the car 
for over a year, I went to Columbus, Ohio, instead of returning 
home with my family. As I did not improve as expected, father 
sent Mrs. Longenecker to me, with instructions to do whatever 
seemed the right thing, under the advice of the best physician 
there. After some time we started west, by his advice, spending 
six weeks in Oklahoma, and a week in the hospital there. This 
necessitated a rest to recuperate; but we finally went on into 
New Mexico and then to Southern California, father hoping all 
the time that we would turn back at every stage of the trip. Not 
having gained what we came for, I was unwilling to return, so 
we decided to give up conventional living and to buy a car and 
camp and tour, hoping the outdoor life and strenuous living would 
bring the desired results. 

We took an apartment in San Francisco, and Mrs. Longenecker 
learned to drive, and we made ready our outfit, buying the tele- 
scope cot beds, bedding, and cooking utensils, and several pieces 
of canvas. We did not have a tent, as we intended roughing it as 
much as possible, and knew we would have little rain. Our first 
plan was to try it in California, and possibly sell the car again 
when we reached Portland, or any other point if we found it was 
too hard a trip. 

Mrs. Longenecker is an experienced camper, and superior cook 
and I knew we would fare well in this way. But until we tried it, 



I had no idea what such outdoor living can mean, nor the sleep 
that crowns a strenuous day on the road. We chose the coast 
route up through the redwood forests, making detours whenever 
we could reach any Indians. This led us into Oregon to the Klamath 
Reservation, then north to the Columbia and back to Portland, 
on to Seattle, and finally toward home, through Spokane and the 
northern trail to the Yellowstone Park. Camping and driving 
where two women do all there is to be done makes a slow trip, for 
packing and unpacking, cooking at least two meals and usually 
three, takes considerable time; and we had many delays, so that 
there were about six weeks we were not driving at all, and from 
the Yellowstone we camped very few times. 

Tenting and touring is now so common in the west we met 
many doing much as we were, having similar good times or trials, 
but I have yet to learn of two lone women who have driven across 
our continent with hotels eliminated from their needs so much of 
the way. We left San Francisco the middle of Eight Month and 
our late start, many delays and my family's desire for my return, 
gave a sense of hurry to the weeks on the road — yet no one was 
more intensely interested or proud of our feat than father, and 
when he realized we hoped to make the trip all the way through, 
he telegraphed me to trade in the Briscoe which had been hope- 
lessly hurt and come through in a Buick, as a birthday present. 
He bought a new atlas and studied our route, calculating the time 
we should make between points if the roads were good, and what 
the chances for delays would be. We finally arrived in Moorestown 
on the 8th of Twelfth Month, coming from Washington, D. C, 
through snow and sleet which turned to heavy rain at home. Father 
was very anxious we should drive on down to Atlantic City the 
next day and speak to Daniel White, so that we would have 
completed the trail from "Ocean to Ocean." But he and mother 
were to go to Florida in three days, and Lillie and I in a week, 
and not having been at home for over a year, I was satisfied to 
let that glory pass, thinking that driving the Buick from Jackson- 
ville to Miami Beach by Christmas would answer the same purpose. 
I regret now that we did not make the effort, as it was father's 
strong desire we should. 



A very important item of this memorable trip should not be 
omitted. Patrick was the source of much happiness to me and 
sorrow to Mrs. Longenecker, and it was a long time before she 
entirely forgave me, or loved Patrick as much as she does now. 
He was a five-months old Airedale I found in Spokane, and brought 
back to camp with me. Our differential had broken, and we were 
stranded for over a week in Wolf Canyon some miles from Cceur 
d'Alene, Idaho, a beautiful spot, but a mile from water. Cars 
passed, but little could be done by the nearest garage. Finally a 
car with three men who had seen us the previous day and found 
us on their return, stopped to inquire what they could do for us. 
They said parts could be made in Spokane, and offered to take 
one of us in. I put a skirt on over my "camp regimentals" and 
was ready. We did not arrive till almost midnight, as they had 
tire trouble, and no lights the last part of the way. So I stayed 
all night with the wife of one of the men, and while waiting for 
the parts to be made, found and bought Patrick. When I returned 
with the garage man, and this fluffy ball of contradictions, guiltless 
of training, the limit of patience was reached. If I had known 
the hours of discomfort he would have given Mrs. Longenecker, 
I might have done differently. Her vigil in my absence was a 
rather lonely one, and coyotes came so near in the night she 
could hear the patter of their feet, and shot off her revolver. 

In Missoula, Montana, we found another dog, a bull terrier 
evidently thoroughbred, lost and starving. Mrs. Longenecker 
brought him to the garage to give him Patrick's future dinner, 
which he devoured ravenously. We were just leaving, and his 
grief-stricken howl when we started made us pause. He needed 
no second invitation, and leaped gracefully into the car as if he 
had always been used to it, even though so weakened by starva- 
tion. His intense gratitude to Mrs. Longenecker, and his devotion 
to both of us, made us safe from anyone's interference, had they 
chosen to attempt it; while his fatherly interest was a great help 
in "bringing up Patrick." Greatly to our sorrow Montana only 
lived six weeks — the length of our stay in that state, and his loss 
was keenly felt. He was almost if not quite the most intelligent 
and remarkable dog I have known. 



THE winter of 1917-18 we spent at the Lincoln 
Apartments, Miami Beach, Florida. These over- 
looked the links just across the road and father 
was as happy as a boy in his enjoyment of the quiet 
restful view from our cozy quarters. 

My father and mother had started south the week 
before Christmas, and Sue and I followed a few days 
later, and meeting her Buick at Jacksonville we drove 
down the beautiful east coast, joining mother and 
father Christmas Eve. We had never had a car south 
before, but knew it would be needed on the beach and 
it was a great convenience and pleasure. Sue had a 
number of basket sales, and our winter was most happy 
and enjoyable; indeed father said to me, "I am not 
sure but this will be the happiest winter we will ever 
have together." I had several delightful visits with 
Madam Saint Gaudens at Cocoanut Grove and on 
mother's seventy-fifth birthday we spent the day at 
Palm Beach. Here we had a delightful call with 
Frank Houston and family and arrangements were 
made that we should all stop and dine with them the 
following week as we started north, that father might 
try the new golf links with Frank Houston. But 
mother was suddenly not well enough to travel, so 
Sue drove father to Palm Beach and they two had a 
delightful visit, and father his last game of golf with 
Frank Houston. 



There is always much packing at the end of a season, 
and Sue had three trunks of Indian baskets left; but 
finally we were ready for a late instead of an early 
start. Everything combined to delay us, a heavy storm 
in the night, a flat tire, a late breakfast, etc., but fin- 
ally we were on our way. 

We did several errands in Miami and hurrying to 
the car I said, "at last we are really off." Father 
answered in a strange voice, "I wish to see a doctor, I 
feel very unwell, this is serious!" Consternation and 
dread seized us and we had to go around the block to 
reach the doctor's office just behind us and by that 
time father was almost unconscious and unable to 
leave the car until he had taken aromatic spirits of 

Such suffering and harrying hours followed, but 
finally he was able to be moved to the Bayview Sana- 
torium, were he gained slowly. A week later he wrote 
two notes, resigning from the Westtown School Com- 
mittee and the Haverford Board. He also took a short 
ride to Miramar, where he thought it would be pleasant 
to have a cottage another year. He was keenly alert, 
deeply interested and seemed just like himself, though 

But the brain work proved too fatiguing and the 
next two days he was very nervous and prostrated, 
then slowly gained again. A few days later the doctor 
said to our question about sending for Charlie and 
Emily, "If you had asked me yesterday I would have 
said 'yes,' but today I trust it will not be necessary. 
I will see him again at noon," but mother grew uneasy 
and wired, and he failed rapidly. 



Two days later the nurse said to mother, "You 
know he can't get well, don't you?" which was the 
first definite word of the kind that had been said. He 
looked so sick and yet was so strong it seemed to me he 
could not die! But the noble heart and arteries were 
almost through their task, and from eight o'clock that 
evening while we knew we were facing the inevitable 
it did not seem true at all, and that it could not be 
our usual happy family, but strangers all with un- 
familiar tasks. After this I wrote down events as they 
occurred, and words and sentences as I could catch 
them often long pauses between. The distress in 
breathing increased, but there were no complaints. It 
was the saddest, most pathetic thing to see them thus, 
mother so calm, tender, so loving, so compassionate — 
dearest father so weak and oppressed, leaning his head 
against hers for support and the end so near. 

At three fifteen a. m. I answered the phone and 
took down a telegram from Emily reading, "Train one 
hour late. Write down father's last words. Tell him 
we are coming and to wait. Dear love. Emily." 
Mother told him they were coming, and he listened 
and said; "oh dear." His breathing, was heavy and 
labored all night and in the more conscious intervals 
he would turn and look at each one of us, and I would 
repeat to him frequently that "Emily and Charlie and 
Henry are coming and they want thee to wait." "Hard 
on them," he said. * * * 

That morning the sun rose about five-thirty and 
our room faced the east. As darkness changed to 
dawn, two low-lying clouds were edged with gold, then 
the sun appeared between them, and it seemed that 



from the bed there was no street nor bay, but only a 
path of golden light straight to the sun and heaven. 
Sue ventured away and met the train and they arrived 
at six-twenty. They called him and told him they had 
come, but he did not speak, just looked and looked, 
and seemed scarcely to understand. Later he recog- 
nized them fully and talked a little and was radiantly 
happy, saying finally, "I am satisfied." 

Some one said, "It is a lovely morning," and he 
replied, "It always is here — what time is it?" "Seven 
o'clock and a beautiful morning." He replied, "I am 
dying — I had better go." He was lying down and they 
told him they did not want to keep him longer and 
were so thankful they had arrived in time. Charlie 
and Emily each made short prayers, and then he said, 
"Oh Father! Oh Father! How beautiful! Glorious! 
I'm almost there." He looked so happy and sat up 
again and called "Charlie" so clearly. "Farewell, 
Charlie, I think it's all right. We're together now." 
Emily said, "Father thee knows everything is all 
right, 'Safe in the arms of Jesus,"' And he nodded his 
head and smiled, "All right, Charlie — everything all 
right — all here together." 

He told them he hoped when they came to die they 
would not suffer as he did. The nurse said afterwards 
to Emily, "I think it was miraculous the way he rallied 
and knew you all, and I am sure he was waiting for 
you, and that he was endowed with supernatural 
strength to say farewell." 

Gradually he lost consciousness and for three hours 
at least he lay with labored breathing so that what he 
wrote of his own dear mother's death is very true as 
to his: "There was a decided change in the breathing, 
it becoming a series of a very few faint breaths followed 



by a longer period of stentorious breathing. At the lastfor 
a minute or two, the slowness was such that each seemed 
the last, yet for two or three minutes more a labored and 
deep breathing occurred at intervals of many seconds." 

So it was at eight minutes after six in the evening 
of Third Month 28th, 1918, with just a little sigh his 
spirit passed quietly to the home prepared for him. 
The loveliest smile came to his face and he looked so 
like Grandfather Allen as he lay there, it seemed im- 
possible that it was our father. The next evening he 
lay on the couch as if asleep and his face had the love- 
liest expression and the most beautiful smile, and it is 
this way I remember him last and think of him. 

The evening he left us, we stepped out on our 
second-story balcony, for the full moon was just rising 
from the bay and was hanging low above two palm 
trees. Just under the moon was a small cloud, the 
only one in the whole sky, and it was in the form of 
an angel with powerful wings widespread, and flowing 
robes as the pictures show. We watched it a long time, 
and the form changed and the cloud disappeared. 

It seemed as if everything favored our departure, 
kind friends came to see us, three connecting state- 
rooms were given up just as we bought tickets, the 
weather was mild and lovely for a few days after we 
reached Philadelphia, and we were met there and at 
Breidenhart by sorrowing relatives, First day after- 
noon. The funeral was at Friends' Meeting House, 
Moorestown, New Jersey, after a little gathering of 
the relatives at Breidenhart. A large gathering of 
friends and relatives and men and women from the 
Plant were present, but nothing seemed real to me or 
a part of our lives, not even the interment in the quiet 
cemetery at Westfield, New Jersey. 




IN his varied and numerous business trips, Samuel L. 
Allen had unusual opportunities for watching the 
growth and development of the United States. He 
was devoted to his country, and had unlimited faith in 
its power and resources, and delighted to tell the won- 
derful achievements of the South and West and the 
possibilities of the near future. 

"Crossing the desert" had no terrors for him, for he 
"saw" it reclaimed and made fruitful by irrigation. 
The most vivid hours of a journey across the continent 
were those I spent with him dreaming of what might 
be seen in a few years, where then stretched arid wastes. 
He regretted that we should go to Europe before seeing 
California, and it was hard for him to excuse Americans 
who traveled exclusively in Europe. While he realized 
the charm of the Old World, and intensely enjoyed 
both visits there, the appeal of the new and the unknown 
in our own country, waiting only a touch to produce 
marvels of national importance, drew him irresistibly. 

Until recent years he kept diaries or notes of all trips, 
writing in a fine legible backhand on one side of each 
page of five-cent plaid paper cash books. In these and 
his family letters he was at his best, describing in con- 
cise English the experiments and incidents of the day, 
or the country, trees and flowers he had enjoyed. 
Typical extracts follow: 



Davenport, Iowa, 7-18-81. 

* * * I have seen thousands of acres of excellent corn in 
fields from 20 to 500 acres each ; oats in fields almost as extensive, 
but little wheat and potatoes, plenty of fine hay crops, prairie 
grass, and numberless cattle and hogs, and numerous horses and 
colts, the latter following their mothers as they work in the corn- 
fields. I also for the first time saw the prairie chickens in their 
native homes. Everything here looks thrifty and promising. On 
the prairies we could see perfectly level stretches of country teem- 
ing with crops, thirty miles each way, or as far as the eye could 

I have crossed the Mississippi today. It seems quite easy to 
travel, even this far. It seems to be only from one city to another. 
As easy from Pittsburgh to Chicago as from Philadelphia to Pitts- 
burgh, and so on here. 

Dearest S. and C, Jr. (At Chalfonte.) 5-7-82. 

Lillie has just taken the children to bed. I came home at four- 
thirty, tried the Fire Fly (plow), got supper at 6.15 and played 
tennis till seven-thirty. L. and I both enjoyed the game very 
much; the ground is in much better order than it was when we 
played before, and with a little care will be very good indeed. In. 
the meantime Emily made mud pies, and Sue chased the chickens; 
back into the yard, and while doing so, frightened a couple off the 
roost, and that hurt her feelings so much, she indulged in a good 
cry. * * * 

(Writing to Aiken, S. C, 1889.) 
My very dear Wife: — 

Next week it will be two "verys." * * * Thee need have 
no hesitation in relieving necessitous poor people. I enclose draft 
* * * to thy order. 

* * * We feel quite surprised that you should seem so busy 
in so far off a place as Aiken. How large is it? I wish Charlie 
could fit up a thermometer for my window here! I am glad he 
finds plenty to do, but I hope he can get his studies along all right; 
for he must be going rapidly behind his classes. Susie led the school 



the last time, Emily third. Sue was quite low down till a mistake 
was discovered. 

(To S. H. A., Lakewood, N. J.) 12-3-90. 

* * * I am very glad thee got along so nicely, as I really 
thought thee would, and I hope thee will improve in strength, but 
not go over 180 pounds — for the roads are getting bad, and one of 
the horses is lame and the carriage old! 

ClNNAMINSON, N. J., 1-12-1891. 

Dear Mamma and Papa: — 

* * * I think the French-Canadian guide is very interesting, 
and I would like to know him. I think the fishing must be lots of 
fun, but if the fish weigh so much, I wouldn't want to catch very 
many at a time, but papa is so much bigger I suppose he don't 
mind it. * * * 

Your loving daughter, Susie J. Allen. 

Pulaski House, Savannah, Ga., 6-1-1885. 

My dear Wife: — 

* * * I called on our customers here, and was quickly intro- 
duced to a youngish man who grew 700 acres of rice, and he 
arranged to take me to his plantation, so each took a boat and 
"nigger" and rowed up and across the Savannah, then through a 
canal to the back river, across that and another river to our desti- 
nation. Had umbrellas to protect us from the fierce sun, of which 
even the " niggers " complained. We walked over the plantation 
and examined the land, the crop, the system of irrigation, the mills 
and the cultivators, and talked up the whole subject. He was 
intelligent, enthusiastic enough, and instructive so far as possible. 
I planned a special tool for them, and shall order some steel from 
Pittsburgh from here, so as to have it at home when I get there. 

The rice interest is a large one here, and the growers are willing 
to pay a good price for a good machine. Our customers are well 
pleased with our present goods, and anticipate a large trade in the 
future both from them and the new machines. 



I am carrying home some moss, palmettos, and long-leaf pine. 
* * * I have been looking for pets for the children, but have not 
brought any along yet. I am quite homesick when I think of you. 
Thy husband, Samuel L. Allen. 

(In Louisiana or Mississippi.) Sixth Month 15th, 1897. 

I have probably passed within sight of 25,000 acres of sugar 
cane today. * * * The fields are perfectly level and generally 
low. Rows generally 6 feet (apart), but sometimes from 5 feet to 
SYi feet. Have already passed thousands of acres of rice, in level 
squares thoroughly drained but flooded now. 

The sugar cane is also well and carefully drained by deep 6-foot 
drains, or sometimes less, longitudinal with shallower cross drains, 
down to the bottom of the clear-up furrows, which are cleaned out 
with a shovel each time the crop is cultivated. 

Cultivation is about as follows: Where cane is to be planted 
the ground is thoroughly plowed in the late fall, then marked out 
about 6 feet apart with a "planter" or double mold board plow, 
which leaves a furrow say about 6 inches wide in the bottom, with 
clean track and smooth sides. The cane is then laid out in this 
trench either two or three stalks side by side, with eyes toward 
the sides. 

This is then covered with from 4 inches to 6 inches of earth to 
keep out frost. Planting is done in 11th Month. In the early 
spring they plow away or bar off, with cotton scraper on each side 
and finish with hoes, leaving about 1 inch of earth over as cover, 
so the sun can warm it and start it to growing. First cultivation, 
light furrows thrown to the crop, then heavier and heavier with 
hoeing, finishing with two mule plows and buster for the middle. 

Sixth Month 15th, 1897. 
The country between New Orleans and New Iberia is very 
flat and low, much of it, especially near New Orleans, swampy 
with growing reeds or grasses. Fifty miles out, or perhaps 25, the 
cultivation of rice is common, and the swamps become full of trees, 
often only cypress. All the trees in the swamps enlarge very much 
as they enter the water, doubling in size ; and the cypress is ribbed 



All the swamp trees and most of the trees throughout the state 
and the Southern states generally, are densely hung with curly, 
long-leaved moss, which hangs down in long, loose wooly, or rather, 
hairy festoons all along the branches, grey, like immense long 
flowing beards. The general appearance in a tree of considerable 
size is like a grey shroud. 

The live oaks are very ghostly. As all the moss droops and hangs, 
the whole inside and below is a mass of hanging, swaying mosses, 
often 5 feet or 10 feet long, while the top of the tree is a mass of 
glassy, green leaves. At evening these swamps are weird indeed. 

At New Orleans, the Smith house was very well kept. I had a 
large room, twice as large as ours, with double beds, with canopies; 
all beds here have canopies, three windows, etc. I looked out upon 
fig trees in fruit, nearly ripe, and upon crape myrtles just coming 
into bloom, twenty-five feet high with six-inch trunks. Some 
already out are a mass of color, but are not trained as on Lake 
Maggiore (Italy). 

In the morning about 7.30, a rap at the door, then another, 
and I got up to find the porter with small cups of black coffee on 
a waiter. I took one. We are supposed to drink it before getting 
out of bed. 

Breakfast commenced with green (?) bananas, which were ripe 
and delicious and sweet; I ate two. The colored girl waiter asked 
how I would have my eggs. With them came broiled spring 
chicken, fried potatoes, ham, etc., etc., and coffee; all good and 
in abundance. 

We drove out three miles. Roads are fair, alternately sand and 
muck; are terribly muddy when wet. Wear dusters for the mud. 
The roads are fenced with a fine-leaved rampant wild rose (the 
Cherokee), making hedges 10 feet high and 10 feet wide, all in 
bloom, five petals, each double pointed; white with yellow centeT. 
But after all a great nuisance, narrowing the roads and making 
them hot and dusty. Many crape myrtles in bloom, cape jasmines 
and passion flowers, etc., some fine roses, though late for them. 

The large cane plantations grow from 1000 to 3000 acres, and 
are equipped with a refinery each. Have 100 to 500 employees. 
They live in villages of one-story houses, with two or three room's. 



All the country is nearly level. Elevation above the sea, from 
nothing to a few feet, and in some places 10 feet to 30 feet. Ditch- 
ing is universal, and must be very unhealthy. The native whites 
are yellow! 

* * * As New Orleans is some 12 feet to 20 feet below the 
level of the Mississippi at highest water, and all the surrounding 
country is flat and swampy, they can only feel safe by having im- 
mense levees. It follows, of course, that the ground is full of water. 

Dig down a foot or two, and water is found, so that, of course, 
there are no cellars at all, and no sewers; the latter, however, are 
possible some day by a system of large sewage reservoirs and pow- 
erful pumping stations. It follows, too, that there can be no graves. 
The cemeteries are a collection of vaults, all above ground. I do 
not know what the poor do, though I am told they place the bodies 
above ground and cover them with various materials and then glass. 

The elevator service here is good, quick and smooth. 

Mr. Baldwin kindly asked me to spend a day or two at Baldwin 
Lodge, 35 miles out from the city and not far from Lake Borgne, 
a very large body of water, in from the gulf, and close to the mouth 
of the Pearl river. This is perhaps larger than the Schuylkill, but 
I am told is navigable 600 miles ! 

So we went out Seventh day evening, arriving about 6 P. M. 
The Lodge is beautifully situated among live oaks, is about 40 
feet by 60 feet, with flanking attachments for help. Is divided 
thus: first floor about 10 feet up, the second is an attic, and is 
supplied with cots and billiard tables. At one side of the grounds 
are two large reservoirs, probably 50 feet by 100 feet and 50 feet 
by 150 feet, 4 feet deep, in which are kept 800 or more "green 
trout," or Oswego bass. 

I was invited to fish there, and found the black Palmer Hackles, 
with orange bodies and with red, effective as usual. Caught 
about 10 one time, and about 20 another. Could not always save 
them. Also tried the bayous. Water almost too muddy for flies, but 
I had several rises. Used minnows and caught 3 or 4 " green trout." 

Best way to cast, with but small sinkers in deepish waters, to 
none in shallow; casting back and forth and drawing in a good 
deal of line slowly, then casting and letting out. 



First day took long sail in steam yacht Semper Idem, a delightful 
craft about 85 feet long, very complete and comfortable. Went to 
a plantation. Saw John Cooper and the pecan trees, pineapple 
orchards, etc. Stopped on the way back at Henry Johnson's. 
Say they have deer, duck, snipe, woodcock, wild turkey and quail 
in season. 

The meals were something immense. Crabs, fish, meats, wine, 
raw onions, scallions and peppers were in great demand. One of 
the party carried some small ones around with him, about the 
size of peas, in a snuff box, using them at every meal. The natives 
are immoderately fond of hot and strong things. Coffee is per- 
fectly black and strong. 

In New Orleans we visited the French market, but not at the 
right time of day. The most striking things were the coffee 
stands arranged around large square posts, with mirrors on all 
sides for the drinkers' use while there. 

Philadelphia, Fifth Month 6th, 1907. 

Thomas Scattergood's funeral at 4 p. m. Very wet. Held at 
Twelfth street meeting house, well filled, considering the weather. 
Rufus Jones, Dr. Barton, Joseph Elkinton and an outside min- 
ister spoke, the last two appeared in prayer. John Dillingham 
was best; "no distance, no foreign burial creed could separate us 
from his spirit," etc. Thomas died after short illness in Naples, 
and was buried there. 

Started with son Charles J. at 6.50 p. m. for Atlanta, arriving 
about 3 hours late, near nine on the 7th. Stayed at Kimball 
House, leaving for Rome 7.20 a. m. 

At 11.30 drove to the Berry Industrial School for our trial, 
which was very satisfactory. Did excellent work; could keep the 
tool on the row, with both mules on one side of it. Ground too wet. 

The Industrial Home is for boys about 18 and over, who cannot 
afford to pay over $50 a year, but give their labor for farm and 
industrial work, put up their own carpenter and mason work, do 
their own washing, cooking, etc. 125 boys; 200 on waiting list; 
a great success. 

Had dinner, and were handsomely treated; and I presented them 
with the experimental tool, to their great gratification, and mine. 



Los Angeles, Cal., 6-5-1898. 

* * * I went out after jack rabbits a little while, but saw 
only one, and thought he was too far off, but he was not, if I 
could have held straight, only about 150 yards. I afterwards shot 
at ducks at 300 yards, and came very close to them; could see 
where the ball struck the water. In New Mexico they have plenty 
of antelope, but they are hard to approach. In long shots they use 
Lyman sights, which they elevate or depress as distance may 

Today Clair and a friend went to Coronado Beach, and saw any 
quantities of fish and fishing. The shallow water was alive with 
small fish trying to keep out of the way of the large ones, which 
were jumping out and darting about after them. The fishermen 
were catching baracuda, yellow tail, halibut, weighing from 5 to 
15 pounds each; and the little ones were caught by simply lower- 
ing a group of large hooks, tied back to back below them, and by 
drawing quickly, each hook speared a fish. 

* * * In Redlands I visited the library, occupied only about 
two months, the gift of the Smiley s. They surrounded the hand- 
some building with beautiful grounds, carefully planted with 
choice palms, etc. We then drove up to Smiley Heights; the 
brothers have 210 acres, the highest point 200 feet, largely planted 
to oranges just coming into profit. Ground prepared at enormous 
expense, but as good orchards are worth from $1000 to $3000, it is 
somewhat justifiable. 

They are said to have spent hundreds of thousands here, $60,000 
for irrigation alone. Beautiful drives wind up to the two fine 
houses, on the highest points looking out over miles of orange 
groves. The planting, now seven years old, is marvelously beau- 
tiful, and probably at its best. A great variety of beautiful palms, 



yuccas, evergreens and deciduous trees and lovely flowering plants 
in bewildering confusion meet the eye everywhere. 

In a few places only are glimpses of the barrenness, upon which 
this magic beauty has been produced. Every tree, plant and 
shrub, even on the steepest hillsides, is irrigated. 

Outfit. To make a similar trip, want the smallest trunk that 
will hold my rods. Would want plenty of shirts, 4 white, 2 checked, 
heavy and light underwear, a dozen each handkerchiefs, collars 
and cuffs, 1 suit linen, 1 suit best, black coat and light vest and 
pants, 1 suit oldish summer wool, socks, field glass, etc., with 1 
trayful of old newspapers, to be replaced by purchases. 

Grip just right, will hold 2 shirts, socks, 4 pairs cuffs, 6 collars, 
paper, drawing tools, razor, brush, soap, brush and comb, tooth 
and nail brushes and powder, shaving things, 2 neckties, scissors, 
pliers, stamps, postals, tablet, Testament and guide and field glass. 

Mother reminds me how careful he was of all his 
belongings, his clothing, bureau drawers, closets and 
tools always being in perfect order, with each article in 
its own place. He delighted to bring us interesting, 
beautiful and educational souvenirs of travel, the first, 
I remember, coming from Niagara Falls, the pair of 
hand-carved vases having different designs, as he would 
not buy two alike. 

My sister-in-law, Henrietta B. Allen, recalls the fol- 
lowing incident, illustrating a point of character: 

One morning while visiting at Father Allen's, we had just taken 
our seats at the breakfast table when father, putting his hand to 
his collar, exclaimed, "Why, I have forgotten my tie." "We'll 
excuse thee, I'm sure," was mother's prompt reply. "But I won't 
excuse myself," said he, and immediately left the table and 
bounded up the stairs (I expect two steps at a time), and was 
back in a very few minutes with his accustomed neat tie perfectly 
adjusted in its proper place. 

This shows how very particular he was about his personal 
appearance, never allowing himself to become lax in any detail. 



A wonderful lesson to many young men who through athletics and 
games and out-door sports too soon become careless of the details 
of personal appearance. Jerome K. Jerome says, he "likes to see a 
little vanity in the young man, for he who has none is apt to 
become a slatternly, dirty-collared, unbrushed-coat man at sixty." 

Third Month 28th, 1902. 

Tremendous acreage planted at Oxnard, they will have 19,000 
acres of beets, 30,000 of beans 3 feet apart. Spreckels had 21,000 
acres in 1901. 

Fifth Month 9th, 1902. 

* * * Saw of & ; 

heard good quality gas! * * * 

Fifth Month 12th, 1902. 

Took pictures of 420 acres of hops. Lilienthal hopyard, largest 
in the world. 6 feet and 7 feet rows; our No. 41 perfect for the 
work; might have more teeth, they say, but with extensions they 
would have plenty, as the tool must be narrowed. Davis manager. 
Hop poles 18 feet high, wired and strung with 45,000 pounds of 
twine at 15 cents. Long as to New York and back. Takes 2200 
men three weeks to pick. 

Stockton, Fifth Month 15th, 1902. 

Business trip is over, and much learned, and I hope not easily 

Saint Louis, Fifth Month 10th, 1907. 

Got away at 10.02, arriving here near 5.30 a. m. A hustling city- 
Found Rumsey's a big place, and the two young Rumseys hustlers 
and husky. Very tired. Saw our tools, their sales increasing all 
the time. 

They took us to the Missouri Club, an immense place, with 
swimming pool, billiard and pool tables, boxing rings, etc. Then 
to Noonday Club for lunch; excellent. Then gave us letter of 
introduction to Glen Echo Club, and the use of their sticks, etc. 

Went to Glen Echo Club ; got fitted out with clubs and sweaters, 
and played around; I in 50-57, he in 55-56. I being 2 up. Then 
had two rounds on a good putting course, all even, or I one ahead. 

Then took dinner there at Rumsey's expense, and back to city. 

• 289 


Los Angeles, 1908. 

Perhaps the most common tree is the fan palm. It grows about 
20 feet high, with a tapering trunk and a rather small head. The 
young trees, about 12 to 15 feet high, seem symmetrical, and are 
very handsome, but as they increase in height the top remains as 
before, and they become out of proportion. The date palm is 
quite common, very graceful, and grows in better proportion. 
There are a number of other palms grown in small quantity. The 
different varieties of cactus are very abundant. The pepper tree 
blooms in white, a long bunch of fine small flowers, followed by 
reddish berries; a tree with similar fine foliage is now rich with 
golden bloom, like foam, trees sometimes 60 feet high. The euca- 
lyptus is very common, but it is ugly; tall, with short drooping 
branches. Geraniums, roses and pinks, carnations and sweet peas 
abound. Sweet peas on the counter here are nearly double the 
size of ours. Figs are ripe, lemons and oranges hang on the trees, 
and plums, walnuts, etc., are nearly full size. Apricots are ripe. 
The best orange trees are beautiful, with their dark green foliage. 
Most of them are stripped of fruit, but some are still loaded. 
Some branches have large fruits on them so close together as to 
touch. Saw one at a confectioner's, about 18 inches long with 11 
good-sized oranges upon it. Some trees were in bloom, carrying 
fruit from the size of peas to marbles. But generally they were in 
a half dormant state. 

The hedges and trimmed shrubbery are very fine. They stand 
trimming well. I saw a hedge today 4 feet high and only 12 inches 
thick; square on top and with perpendicular sides; it was very 
fine. Such a one would fail at home. 

The trolley service here is very good. We take advantage of it 
freely, though distances are generally great. 

The care taken here by orange growers to ornament their road- 
sides makes me feel we do but little, and that much village improve- 
ment would be in order. 

* * * Thy letter, my dear, is full of "events," too. We all 
seem to be busy, and I fear we do not cultivate much quietude. 
Alexanders must have been visiting at Mohonk just about the 
same time I was visiting at Smiley Heights! A. C. W. would be 



interested in my Santa Catalina Island experiences, etc. While 
there I met with fishermen who seemed to know where to go near 
home for bass, and I intend to bear it in mind, and possibly we 
can plan a trip there sometime. 

* * * I have just written a few lines of sympathy to Edw. 
S. Harmer, as Joshua was a man I always highly esteemed. I 
think all your letters have come in promptly, or have been for- 
warded. I enjoyed the meeting at Pasadena, and intended going 
again today and dining with Robert Russell, but we did not get 
through in time, and only reached here at 12.40 p. m. today. 
Drove this afternoon by the "Friends Meeting" of Los Angeles; 
a very small frame building in an obscure place. The Pasadena 
building was very neat and satisfactory, probably double the size. 

We were very slow in getting to work yesterday, but had a 
very satisfactory trial, and I feel that at last I thoroughly under- 
stand the orchard cultivation here and will be able to make a great 
success of future goods. San Jose is a delightful place, free from 
the fogs of San Francisco and the coast, and full of delightful 
homes. The grounds are often large, and always beautiful with 
tropical trees and flowers. Of course, many beautiful palms and 
cacti, etc., etc. The bloom is marvelous, like the growth of the 
plants themselves. 

We passed through miles of beautiful orchards, driving in all 
perhaps 20 miles, three-fourths of it orchard. Hundreds of acres 
of prunes, cherries, plums, walnuts, peaches, etc.; though the 
prune predominates here, though not quite so universal as the 
orange in the south. The Hotel Vendome, in San Jose, is a delight- 
ful summer resort in a beautiful park. All over California, so far 
as I have been, the careful trimming of cypress and other trees is 
common, and I have never seen such absolutely perfect and accu- 
rate work. Their climate and trees seem to allow of it better than 

I hear of lions in green, and of the words Our Home being thus 
cut. The arch is one of the commonest forms ; next to the pyramid, 
the oval and round forms. In one place I saw a heavy arch, of 
square section, with a tree growing directly out of the top, pro- 
duced by careful trimming. Last evening we saw English ivy, 



stretched on a wire between two large trees, perhaps 30 feet apart, 
the wire 15 or 20 feet from the ground, and then the ivy was 
trained downward in the center to form a large letter T, perhaps 
4 feet wide and 5 deep. 

Very many trees are columns of ivy 30 feet high and 5 feet 
through from the growth upon the trunk. Much of this has to be 
accomplished by laborious irrigation. On the other hand, manure 
and other labor are not required, and growths are rapid. Two 
marked compensations here for lack of rain are lack of weed growth 
and no loss of time from wet weather. 

They have fine roads here almost everywhere. * * * The 
beautiful homes here make me homesick. I am not sure that I 
wrote you how cordial and attentive Baker, of Baker & Hamilton, 
was, staying with me most of the day. 

Hotel St. George, Santa Cruz, Cal., 6-20-98. 
My dear wife: — 

We are here at a very pleasant hotel, and this is an interesting 
neighborhood. It seems to be very fertile. They say there is 
wheat now in the neighborhood that will yield one hundred 
bushels to the acre! The oats are splendid: 4 to 5 feet high; 
and other crops as good. We passed a field of nasturtiums, 
doubtless grown for seed, that was perhaps 50 acres. Saw our 
wheel hoes used by Chinamen to work strawberries. 

The hotel clerk this evening showed us a branch of a cherry 
tree as thick as my finger and perhaps 30 inches long, bearing a 
mass of large cherries, perhaps 500 in all, or near 2 pounds! As 
we came last evening we passed through a grove of "big trees," 
redwoods. The largest is said to be 12 feet in diameter and doubt- 
less 200 feet or more in height. They were very fine and grew close 
together. I do not think I ever saw half or one-fourth so much 
wood on a piece of ground before. 

Most of the way up was beside a rocky stream with beautifully 
wooded banks, reminding me of the valley of the Visp, in a small 
way. We passed across gorges and through long tunnels. The 



mountains and hills were beautiful with evergreens, in great con- 
trast with the other California mountains that I have seen, which 
are uniformly naked or nearly so; mere masses of earth and rock, 
with a scant growth only partially hiding the ground; more bare 
than hidden. Santa Cruz is on the coast, and our ride today was 
along the coast for some distance and very interesting and pretty. 
We went to Watsonville and had a very satisfactory trial of the 
beet cultivator. It was pronounced a good tool. We go tomorrow 
to Alvarado, another large beet ranch, with refinery. 

There is a very large opening for good beet drills and culti- 
vators here, and I hope we can get a good share of it, although it 
will be difficult. 

Grand Hotel, San Francisco, 6-21-1898, 9.05 P. M. 

My dear wife: — 

* * * * 

I am very well indeed, and have been, and hope to continue so. 
Have had two trials, one each day, of the beet hoe; successful as 
usual. This part of the trip is positively the most beneficial of 
all! It will do us an immense amount of good both directly and 

In returning this morning from Santa Cruz, we passed through 
a small grove of Sequoias, called the "Big Trees," and it is a fav- 
orite place for campers to locate and tourists to stop. But our 
train was not scheduled even to stop, unless there was a passenger. 
I asked the conductor about stopping, as I had just told Clair I 
would, and he told me as above. I said a few words further, and 
he passed on. In a few minutes he came back, and said if we 
would like to see the trees, he would hold the train a short time. 
I asked how long. "Oh," he said, "two or three minutes; long 
enough to go inside!" I asked the charge. "Two bits," he said. 

Then he told me about the different trees. "One that was still 
growing, but would hold 45 people in its hollow, another 20 feet in 
diameter and 260 feet high, with 80 feet blown off the top, etc." 
And also that scientists declare that a certain circle of very large 



trees were merely the suckers or succeeding trees, following the 
death of a venerable giant parent tree, which must have been 
120 feet in diameter. In a few minutes he said, "Here we are," 
and out we ran and paid our two bits, and he called back the guide 
who was just boarding our train, but he was lame and slow, and 
with, "Oh, you are no good," he ran around with us himself and 
showed all the chief attractions. 

The hollow tree was lined, almost wadded, with cards and pieces 
of paper with names. Probably two or three thousands. Another 
large half -burned tree was a similar depository. "Jumbo" had a 
large knot, like an elephant's head. Also the 20-foot tree that 
President Harrison and Wanamaker measured, H. holding one end 
of the string. "But John would not be satined, as he couldn't 
see what Ben was doing; so he stuck in a nail and then going 
round measured it himself." The conductor called "All aboard," 
after about five minutes, and we scrambled back to find some dis- 
appointed passengers, who "didn't know the train was going to 
stop." The conductor told them "he stopped long enough," or 
something to that effect. He thought " maybe we would not have 
another chance." I told him, "No, we were from Philadelphia, 
and it would be our only opportunity." He said he was from 
Philadelphia, also; and he came to me afterward, and pointed out 
the attractive places, described the accidents in the long tunnels 
we passed through, came to me just before we reached Alvarado, 
to say that was my station; altogether he made himself very agree- 
able, in a rather gruff and taciturn way. I had also a very pleasant 
half -hour's chat with the passenger that "didn't know we were 
going to stop." We may possibly get away from here ahead of 
schedule, but it is doubtful. Baker and Hamilton, especially the 
former, are very agreeable, open and communicative. 
* * * * 

This is a marvelous country in many ways. All the mountains, 
almost without exception, are treeless, but today it was like the 
valley of the Visp, with trees nearly 300 feet high. We also saw 
immense fields of grapes, probably 1000 acres on the hills and 
mountains, some of which are said to yield 100 bushels to the acre, 
and everything luxuriant. 



Dear mother, I shall have to be more careful how I talk, if the 
Leeds boys or others set any store by it. 

* * * * 

* * * It is very cold indeed here. Scarcely saw one straw 
hat out of thousands on the street this evening; need winter 
underclothes and overcoat in the evenings. 

(S. L. A. to S. H. A.) Santa Rosa, Cal., 6-22-98. 

* * * This being a dry country, they want the ground 
stirred deep, beneath the surface, and left level. In vast countries, 
as Louisiana, all crops are hilled to the fullest extent. 

This section is very fine, thousands of acres of orchards, and 
they manage without irrigation, so that their fruit is not so soft, 
has higher flavor and ships better, and the crop seems heavier. 

When I see all the beautiful flowers and grounds here, I often 
think of the grounds at Breidenhart, and wish to see them; and 

wonder what we might do or plant to make them as attractive. 

* * * 

Golden Eagle Hotel, Sacramento, Cal., 6-28-98. 
My dear family: — 

Ninety miles on the homeward journey, and not a single day 
ahead of schedule. * * * 

This is a city of about 25,000. They do a large business here, 
however, for cities here are a long distance apart, and have very 
large territory tributary to them. In this valley there is a very 
large acreage of wheat. Thousands upon thousands of acres. 

In crossing today, I saw six of the famous machines with which 
they cut and thresh the wheat, all at one passage, besides sacking 
it. The general appearance is that of a drove of horses or mules, 
followed by a large machine, with three men perched upon it, 
which disappears, leaving a small cloud of dust behind it, and a 
trail of sacks of wheat, containing about 140 pounds each, all 
sewed up and dropped in lots of three. They use twenty to twenty- 
four mules, and four abreast. They cut 16 feet wide. Some of 
the larger ones run by traction engines and cut, thresh and sack 
1000 sacks a day, I understand. 



To go down to small machinery, Sue and Charlie would be 
interested to watch a group of mice in a shoe store window here. 
They are well fed, and are in a large glass-sided cage. In the 
center is arranged a circular platform of thin wood, about 16 inches 
in diameter, on an axle (ball bearing) in a position slightly inclined, 
with another circular platform of about 8 inches in diameter in 
the same plane, but 3 or 4 inches higher, thus : (sketch was made) 
The mice run around and when they jump on the edge of the disc 
it begins to move, and they immediately try to climb to the upper 
edge, and the affair turns faster and faster till the mouse is ex- 
hausted and falls off the edge, is thrown off, or else he rushes into 
the center and gets hold of the center post. But that is generally 
so full of dizzy mice, that the chances are that he can get no foot- 
hold, and away he goes again. 

San Francisco is a cold place, except in the middle of the day 
in the sun. In the shade it is cool enough. Here it is fearfully 
hot, and I have had a tiresome time riding around in the hot sun. 
At San Francisco one sleeps under one, two or three blankets, 
and don't have the windows open more than a few inches. We go 
through the Sierras tonight, which seems a pity, but not easy to 
avoid except by losing time. 

With dear love to all, your deeply attached relative, 

Sam'l L. Allen. 

The Knutsford, Salt Lake City, 6-30-98. 
My dear family, for so you are: — 

I am much delighted with the accumulation of letters here, and 
especially with the two fat ones from home, and a new fountain 
pen John has sent me. 

The best thing I can say tonight is that it now looks as if I 
would reach home not later than the 10th. 

I will have most of 1st and 2d days at Colorado Springs, which 
is said now to be the wealthiest city for its size in the United 
States. The ride from Sacramento is mostly through arid lands 
and desert, with mountains interspersed. I was sorry to pass 
through the Sierras in the night. A couple of hundred miles before 



reaching here, I was glad to get once more into the region of streams 
although at Sacramento they have quite a large river. We had an 
hour at Ogden. It is nestled among the hills, and does a large 
business. We talked with one of our old agents, who was at his 
store by 7.30; it seemed early to us, as our time said 6.30. I have 
now set my watch forward an hour. I shall be glad to gain the 
other two lost on the way out. We reached Salt Lake City at 
8.45 a. m., and are at a $4.00 house; very nice. We have seen 
our agents here, and have arranged to go out to the beet factory 
at Lehi, about 29 miles out. Today we visited the Mormon Taber- 
nacle, looked at the "Temple," visited Fort Douglass, where we 
had fine views of the city and mountain ranges, some of the 
highest peaks having large snowfields down their north slopes, and 
this evening went to Saltair, the watering place on Salt Lake, the 
nearest part of which is 8 miles from the city. They have very 
fine and exclusive bath houses and pavilions there, but it is too 
early to bathe, though perhaps a half dozen went in. They float 
around with head and shoulders out of water, the density is so 
great. Immense piles of salt were thrown together on the meadows, 
evaporated from the water. Probably 100 carloads or more in 
sight. The fire buckets at the pavilion were encrusted with salt 
around the edge, perhaps an inch wide and a half-inch thick. A 
string dipped and dried successively three or four times crystal- 
izes to the thickness of a pencil. 

I am glad my notes by the way prove interesting; it is certainly 
interesting to me to write them. It is a great change from the 
lovely flowers of California to the barrenness here. This state, how- 
ever, is blessed with immense crops, and is exceedingly prosperous. 

You speak of rains and showers. Not one drop of rain here, or 
since I left home, and I hope I may get through my trial at Grand 
Island without it. 

Clair and I separate tomorrow evening, but I shall be too busy 
to be lonesome. I have used up nearly two drawing tablets. 

Lillie's and Sue's, Charlie's and Emily's letters are all very 
interesting to me. And thine, my dear, fullest and best of all. 

With a great deal of love to each and all, your near relation, 

Sam'l L. Allen. 


ONE day my mother came home and said that she 
had heard of a bargain, one of the biggest 
bargains she had ever found, a bargain for the 
whole family, or at least for half of it. To our eager 
questions she explained that the Philadelphia Photo- 
graphic Society was going to have an excursion to the 
Canadian Rockies, for the members and their friends, 
and as we could be counted among their friends she 
thought it would be perfectly delightful if we could join 
them for a month's trip in a special car. 

Dr. and Mrs. Charles Schaffer of Philadelphia were 
the leaders of the party and our cousins Henry and 
Jane Bartlett and my father and mother and myself 
rounded out the number to fourteen. We started from 
New York city, going directly to Montreal, and were 
most delightfully entertained there by Dr. and Mrs. 
Saunders of the Government Experimental Farm. The 
president and two ex-presidents of the Montreal Photo- 
graphic Society were faithful guides, and water stunts 
at the boat club in the late afternoon were most novel 
and enjoyable. These extracts from letters written 
home tell some of the notable events of the trip : 

Fort Caldwell-on-Lake Superior, 7-9-'99. 

Fifty minutes late. We are skirting the lake, often behind 
peninsulas and promontories and often on the very bank. Some- 
times in short rocky tunnels — slowly up the grades and fast down. 



A very wild country. Few settlements. The forests are a stunted 
growth. But with a good dining car we are very comfortable. 
Several were a little train sick from the roughness of the road 
and the speed, but we all had a good night. I sleep better than at 
home, being more tired, of course. Not much game nor evidence 
of fish, except the cover for both. 

Calgary, Alberta, Seventh Month 11th, 1899. 

Arrived here a half-hour ago, had been in sight of the Rockies 
for an hour. 

The men here in the hotel appear to be cowboys or of that 
style, big hats, rough and hardy looking. This town is small but 
well built. We met with the Mayor of Calgary on the train but 
he stopped for the races at Winnipeg. The mountain tops are 
white with snow, weather perfect. Traveling is tiresome, sdme 
car sickness. 

Seventh Month, 12th. 

At table 7.45 A. M. * * * Yesterday was spent in visiting 
the Sarcee Indians, said to be the dirtiest tribe, lower than gypsies. 
They were notified of our coming and were in war dress and paint, 
ermine, etc. Had a pony race, showed their travois or pony carts 
of poles. They had a good deal of fine beadwork, etc., and the 
party invested in moccasions, tobacco, eagle wings, etc., and 
took many pictures, etc. 

Brandon, Manitoba, Seventh Month 14th, 1899. 

* * * It seems almost impossible to write much on this journey 
because we are so far, almost always in motion. Here I have 
seven minutes to write. * * * 

(From S. H. A.) 

Banff Springs Hotel, Banff, N. W. T., 7-16-1899. 
My Dear Daughter: * * * 

We have had a very good time here, among the lakes, rivers, 
mountains, etc. I have been fishing with moderate success several 
times. We have had two morning rides, and many walks. I have 
climbed one mountain. The house is situated on a knoll, is per- 



haps 200 feet above the valley, but the valley is 4,500 feet above 
the sea. The breadth of the valley is about two miles. It is 
entirely surrounded by mountains from 6,000 to nearly 10,000 
feet above the sea, most of them capped rather slightly with snow. 

In this high altitude, climbing is rather hard on the heart and 
lungs. Everything is very dry. Showers are dissipated before 
they fall in many cases. When one washes face and hands, they 
are almost dry before one can use a towel. * * * 

We are debating a scheme to go from Field eight miles to 
Emerald Lake, then camp over night, then partly ascend a small 
mountain, where they say only two white men have ever been, 
to see a river falling 2,000 feet in cascades over rocks, with one 
sheer fall of 800 feet. If we can do this, we will be ahead of and 
away from "the madding crowd." 

I hope you are enjoying things generally. We have here with 
us the Bishop of Saskatchewan and Calgary who, after talking 
with a Harvard graduate said to his friend he had "learned that 
Harvard appeared to be an important institution." * * * 

S. L. A. 

Glacier, 7-16-1899. (Mercury 82°.) 3.40 P. M. 

My Dear Father: * * * 

Above and all around so far as the eye can see, are those 
wonderful peaks, Sir Donald and Eagle's Peak — the former 
10,000 or 11,000 feet high, it is not really known, I believe, and 
the great Illicilliwaet Glacier we see also from the window. Tra- 
dition only tells that Sir Donald has been ascended once by a 
Swiss guide. 

Yesterday this was verified, as a French and a German gentle- 
man accompanied by two Swiss guides, started at 2 A. M., reaching 
the topmost peak by 3.30 P. M. and were back here at the hotel 
at 11 o'clock at night. They lost a good deal of time by meeting 
with so much ice and snow, they had to retrace their steps, and 
unfortunately they could not ascend this side of the highest peak 
so we could see them. Samuel was watching with the glass on 



the porch much of the day for them, several times thinking he 
did see them, but I guess it was a mistake. 

Strange to say they found a bottle up there left by a former 
guide, stating on that very day nine years ago he had made the 
ascent. They also left their names and date in the bottle. This 
mountain is the "Matterhorn of the Selkirks." * * * 

Henry Bartlett and one of the guides ascended Mt. Abbott, 
8,000 feet, in a very short time, leaving Samuel, Jennie, Charles 
Roberts and myself at Marion Lake, which is 1,750 feet above 
the hotel, and it is 4,122 feet above sea level. I thought, and 
Samuel did also, that we had a very steep hard climb to this lake. 
I have never done much mountain climbing, but I think I could 
do better now. I went with a party to the great Glacier, but I 
decided that I did not want to climb up with them, so was left 
behind and returned to the hotel. There were eight or nine of us 
and as there was but one guide, he took only half the party at 
once, returning for the others; all were roped together, and a 
foothold cut for each step. After going up about one-third of a 
mile he left the first party on a little platform, till he returned, 
when they all went up another third, except Samuel.* In looking 
at the spot now it seems no distance at all, the Glacier is so vast, 
and is said to contain 100 square miles. I feel it is a great privi- 
lege to make this most interesting trip and I would that I could 
describe it, but it is impossible. * * * 

(From Sarah H. Allen) 

"The Chalet," Laggan, Alberta, 7-18-1899. 
My very dear Emily: 

Father was called at 5 o'clock to go fishing with our "chef" 
who seems to be a man of more than one trade, as he gives us 
delicious meals, mends shoes and catches fish, and I do not know 

* This was the first time I remember seeing my father turn back from any- 
thing he had set out to accomplish, and it was a shock that lasted weeks. 



how many more accomplishments he may have. There are but 
four people here to take charge of this most delightful Chalet, 
the manager, "chef," housemaid, and a man waiter, and they all 
know how to fish. I believe the trout were much more abundant 
early in the season than at present. Father is indefatigable, how- 
ever, as you well know; has just returned bringing fine trout. * * * 

Did Lillie tell you of our trip to Mirror Lake and Lake Agnes? 
We thought it a wonderful ride up the mountains, I the only 
lady that rode across; I had a side-saddle furnished me, but was 
not willing to ride it. I felt quite safe and secure riding across, 
except it seemed impossible to think of riding down; however, we 
did, and I found it easier and better than I expected, though Jane 
Bartlett thought it worse. The lakes and mountains surrounding 
them were most beautiful; Bee-hive mountain is most appro- 
priately named. Yesterday Mr. Robinson, Chas. Roberts, J. H. B. 
and wife, father and I, with a guide, ascended the Saddle Rock 
and Goat mountain. I wish if you still have Uncle Will's book on 
the Canadian Rockies, by Mr. Wilcox, you would read the account 
of his ascent, the first person to go up. 

Really it was a terrible climb, and I would not have gone if I 
had known, as the trail was a good deal washed from the winter 
snows and only one other party had been up this year, as it is 
early in the season. We had grand views as we rode along, part 
of the way when out in the open, overlooking the valley of the 
Bow, with the mountains on the other side, then when we reached 
the top and looked over into Paradise valley which was entirely 
surrounded by these wonderful mountains towering high above 
us with glaciers and waterfalls in sight and snow banks a hundred 
or two feet deep — it was, indeed, a grand sight; but oh, the ride 
to it! Twice we dismounted and let the ponies wade through the 
snow banks up to their stomachs while we walked up and around. 
The trail was so steep in many places it did seem fearful, and 
then sometimes trees had fallen; but the faithful ponies — I had 
the greatest admiration and respect for them — they seemed to 
know just how, when and where to place their feet. 



Field, B. C, Seventh Month 21st, 1899. 
S. H. A. 

Safely back here again from our camping trip, having left here 
on Fourth day P. M. Fifteen horses and two guides. Have had a 
varied experience and a most interesting time. Father and I and 
Lucy Roberts and Dr. Schaffer remained at Emerald Lake, and 
father and I had a good time fishing. Caught eleven lake trout, 
two of which weighed almost one pound each. In the P. M. I 
caught one that weighed one and one-fourth pounds and was 
eighteen inches long. We never tasted such delicious fish. Some of 
the ladies went part way up the mountain but it was a very steep, 
hard climb, taking five and a half hours. The view and falls were 
most wonderful, Mr. Robinson says, exceeding anything he has 
seen in Switzerland. 



Geneva, Seventh Month 25th, 1892. 

More shopping. Train at 10.30 A. M. for Cluses where we had 
a good lunch and took diligences for Chamounix. Had a delightful 
drive over an excellent road up the valley of the Arve, with very 
little climbing, though there was always a slight up-grade. 

The river was always rapid and grey with detritus from the 
numerous glaciers. The snow-topped mountains were always in 
sight in the same direction and Mont Blanc was in sight much 
of the time, and toward the latter part of the time was con- 
tinually visible, but not easily distinguished because surrounded 
by other similar peaks which, being nearer, seemed just as high. 

We soon saw what we thought must be a glacier and it proved 
to be one, coming from a broad into a narrow valley, with its 
edges turned up by the contact with the rocks, and loaded with 
more or less debris. We passed two or three more of different 
sizes before reaching Chamounix. 

We found the Hotel des Alpes a very satisfactory one, our room 
windows having a little balcony from which we could watch the 
changing shadows and colors on the Mont Blanc range, see a 
nearer range of lower mountains and see the valley of the "Raging 
Arve," with the waters rushing by, and the beautiful meadows 
and farm lands checkered with various colored crops stretched 

Seventh Month 26th. 

We had a choice between the Mer de Glace and Glacier des Bos- 
sons for a climb. The former is the hardest and most noted. To 
see them both we divided, but not equally. Sallie went with the 
Doctor to Glacier des Bossons; Lillie, Susie and I went with A. C. 
W,'s family and Barclay to the Mer de Glace. The Glacier des 
Bossons trip is about 9 miles and the other 14 miles. 



We each had a mule and for each pair of us a guide, and a boy 
to take the mule from one side to the other. The Glacier des Bossons 
trip was very interesting, the ice being very much split up and open 
by the action of gravity combined with shape of the bottom. 
The glacier was one-quarter mile across, said to be the largest 
glacier in Europe. It comes down almost to the bottom of the 
valley and the summer heat has but little power to reduce its 
size, though there are always large tumbling streams grey with 
detritus issuing from the base. 

We rode about 5 miles to the Mer de Glace and reached an 
elevation of 6,600 feet, finding a large eating saloon there, where 
we left the mules and got a substantial meal and soon afterward 
commenced the crossing at a comparatively level place, first 
zigzagging down 200 or 300 feet of the side of the track or bed of 
the glacier. 

We were provided with rubbers for the wet surface or with 
coarse socks (1 franc a pair). We first climbed the sloping sides 
of the glacier on to the general level; not very slippery or danger- 
ous, though there were a number of steps cut in the ice, where 
steep, and they were quite narrow. The ice surface was like hail 
in texture and was slightly darkened by accumulations of coarse 
gritty dust, so that it very seldom seemed at all slippery. Where 
we crossed, the ice was probably three-quarters of a mile wider. 
On the north side there was a strip a quarter of a mile wide covered 
with gritty mud and stones, boulders and rocks, ground up and 
carried along by the glacier. This was very interesting. 

In between the side of the glacier and the mountain the action 
of the two upon each other had loaded down the space with 
broken and rounded rocks. We wound around the sides, working 
gradually downwards for two or three miles and perhaps for 
one-quarter of a mile along a precipitous mountain of rock, with 
a path cut mostly out of the rock, very narrow and only kept safe 
by an iron rail about three-quarters of an inch thick fastened to 
the rock and to which we clung with one hand. 

Toward the lower end the glacier bent over a precipice or knee 
of the mountain and was thus cracked across every few feet, 
making fissures 50 or 100 feet deep, and recracking longitudinally 



it formed grotesque and dangerous masses ready to topple without 
notice. Some were 60 to 100 feet high and only one-third that 

The path along the rock was properly called the Mauvais Pas, 
bad path; the place where Dr. Paine and a girl of his party nearly 
lost their lives from her carelessness. The terminal moraine was 
also interesting, though it is evidently several hundred yards 
further up the mountain than formerly. 

' {On our way to Chamounix we passed the Baths of St. Gervais, 
the site of the dreadful avalanche, where about 140 lives were lost. 
Our road lay just where the mass of mud crossed and in many 
places it was shovelled off. The rocks, mud, logs, etc., covered 
the fields for a mile or two, perhaps three, and the width was 
about one-half mile to a mile; depth generally 4 to 5 feet. Could 
not see where the hotel had been up the gorge, but the remains 
of the scattered village were right before us. Some of those 
remaining had their yards and sheds, etc., filled with mud.) 

After working down the mountain below the moraine of the 
Mer de Glace, we took our mules again and went down to the 
base of the mountain. The mules and saddles were of varied 
character. All ladies' saddles had a protecting tail, but Susie's 
and some others had but one poor girth each and could scarcely 
be kept from turning. The gentlemen's were better. My mule 
and saddle were both good. Barclay's mule was disagreeable, a 
kicker, flies being bad; and just as we reached the bottom of the 
mountain he squatted from fright or wickedness and threw 
Barclay off behind the guide having the rein. 

He fell heavily, the weight on his right wrist and broke the 
radius bone at the wrist and threw the other out of joint, with 
minor bruises. However, we soon got him to the hotel and the 
arm dressed. A great drawback to our pleasure. But we paid 
no money for that mule. 

Seventh Month 27th. 

Took carriages holding four each and drove 27 miles to Martigny 
over the Tete Noire Pass; a most delightful journey, attaining 
an elevation of about 5,000 feet; zigzagging up on one side and 
down on the other; lunching comfortably at a half-way house. 



Here met a bicycler with Columbia pneumatic from Dayton, 
Ohio. Had ridden 1,600 miles, finally puncturing the rear tire. 

The pass was of course a watershed; on one side the River Arve 
had its source, on the other the Eau-Noire. A steep ascent of a 
mile and a half was walked by most, though too much for some 
who should have refused to get out of their carriages. The ride 
down to Martigny was a long, well-graded zigzagging descent over 
an excellent road. 

An hour's car ride brought us to Villeneuve, the west end of 
Lake Geneva and "ten minutes" walk from Castle Chillon, 
Hotel Byron. Lodged in a ballroom in the woods; but a good 
hotel, overflowing. 

Seventh Month 31st. 

Heavy showers last evening and night and a lovely morning. 
Had reading in our room at 11.30 A. M. and spent most of the 
day in writing diaries and letters. Barclay has had one day of 
pain from the broken arm which the doctor set for him carefully, 
simply using a pad between it and the wrist, and a number of 
bands of sticking plaster around the splint and arm near the 
elbow and another set of about five passing around the end of 
the splint and then back around the thick part of shoulder of the 
thumb and hand and one between the thumb and forefinger. 
Splint on the back of the hand reached from the elbow to 
second joint of forefinger. Since the first day Barclay has suffered 
but little. Will change plans and go to Rome with the doctor. 
(Note. The final result was perfect, the broken arm being as 
flexible and easily controlled as the other.) 

Sixth day we heard through Sara Richie's letter to Mary Leeds 
of the little daughter at Winderly, Elizabeth W. R. (Roberts) 
Elkinton. No news direct to us received as yet; probably sent to 
Zermatt. We hope the very hot weather we hear of may not 
prove oppressive at Winderly. 

Yesterday heard of the dreadful accident at the Grindelwald 
glacier; a Boston man killed by falling ice, his family, wife and 
nephews travelling with him. A large piece of ice broke high up 
the glacier and cracking into thousands of pieces slid down over 
the glacier and many came along and dropped over an edge above 



his head. He saw them coming and dodged a number of them, 
but was struck and knocked down; recovering himself he was 
knocked down again but recovered again; but then came a large 
mass which killed him instantly. 

He was not out of the usual track, and the description was 
given to us by a person who saw it all, but was a short distance 
behind, out of danger, however. 




By Samuel L. Allen 

Prepared by request for an Annual Dinner 
of the Ozone Club 

GOLFING is only one among many interests to 
be met with during a summer in England, so 
that what I say may give more prominence to 
golf than my rather casual enjoyment of it would seem 
to justify. "Critics, therefore, would do well to be 
kind, remembering this." 

We had no more than begun to plan a summer in 
England when the unfinished development of the aero- 
plane admonished us to secure passage upon a steamer; 
preferably large, slow and steady, and free as possible 
from sea sickness. But I found our choice would fail 
to land us in time for the annual open championship. 
This would never do for a golfer, so we changed to the 
fast liner, Kaiser Wilhelm 2d, which sailing three days 
later landed us one day earlier. 

We reached London between one and two, and a 
train leaving two or three hours later hurried me to 
Deal in time for dinner. I partook of this in the glass- 
enclosed dining room, looking right out and across the 
Straits of Dover to Calais, where, directly, I saw our 
steamer pass quickly by. 

The next morning about one thousand golfers of 
both sexes, the women carrying canes, and some of the 



men a combined one-legged stool and cane, repaired to 
the Deal course. The club house is large and substan- 
tial, and alongside were deployed restaurant tents, etc. 

The first tee and last green are near the club house. 
The first fair way is practically level and smooth. A 
water hazard protects the wavy and rather difficult 
green. The second fair green runs along over low 
sandy hillocks, some forty or fifty Of them, varying in 
height from three to twelve feet. Two or three large 
ones protect the green and hide it completely, for it is 
in the bottom of a hollow a dozen feet below the last 
crest; all through the rest of the course the sandhills, 
covered mainly with good turf, are a feature. Many of 
the greens are blind, some of them being reached in 
one or more shots over grassy sand dunes, perhaps 
twenty or thirty feet high. They are beautifully kept, 
are true and generally irregular in shape and surface; 
the grass is fine and thick, and there are many ridges 
of slippery sand and coarse grass, over which it is very 
tiresome to follow the players. 

The chief figures in the contest were "the great 
triumvirate," Braid, Vardon and Taylor, and each had 
his own gallery of two or three hundred people. The 
first, the late champion, is tall and powerful, prob- 
ably six feet two inches high, stoop shouldered, and very 
intent on the business before him. He is a long driver, 
but frequently went into the rough, which in many 
cases he almost seemed to turn into an advantage. 
The first nine holes he made in thirty -four, missing one 
putt of seven feet, and two less than a yard in length. 
One of the latter he missed by going six inches to the 
left of the hole. At the beginning of the contest he 



seemed to be the favorite, but the galleries changed as 
one or another forged ahead. 

Vardon is a much slighter man, not above middle 
height, rather handsome, and very graceful and delib- 
erate in his work; while Taylor, the eventual champion, 
is stocky and full medium height. He has the light, 
straight Saxon hair and is very alert. The driving of 
Braid is rather deliberate, with not quite a full stroke. 
Vardon drives gracefully, beautifully, in perfect time 
and form, taking a full swing. Taylor steps up to the 
ball, and before you know it, with a flick, he sends it 
far down the course. 

The fair green is well turfed where most needed, but 
the multitudinous sandhills are sure to give the player 
every variety of stance, making each shot more or less 
of a chance and the course difficult. Following these 
brilliant players becomes tiresome to all but the most 
enthusiastic, and I soon found that I would prefer to 
play, part of the time. 

For miles this coast is bordered by adjoining golf 
links. On the north, Deal, then Sandwich, next Prin- 
ces, etc., while on the south are Walmer, Dover and 
others. So, the second afternoon I drove three miles 
to Sandwich, the famous course at which Walter J. 
Travis won the English amateur championship. The 
terms are ten shillings for three consecutive days, rain 
or shine. 

The character of the grounds is considerably like 
those at Deal, though even more rugged. Some holes 
are open and nearly level, and others are in the most 
difficult places, among or beyond sandhills. One com- 
mences at the first hole to play over rough ground. At 



the third, I was shown by the caddy the direction of 
the green over low, rolling hillocks, but to the right of 
a grassy hill. He told me to take a midiron and play 
up the side of the hill to the left and the ball would 
roll down to the green. There was a high wind blowing, 
as usual on all coast courses; it came from the left, so 
allowing for that I played perhaps thirty yards to the 
left, and after walking over a half dozen sandhills I 
found my ball at the bottom of the hollowing green, 
dead to the hole. This meant one under bogey for the 
first three holes. But after this I did not do so well. 

It was generally necessary to take the advice of the 
caddy, as to what club to take and what direction to 
play. He would perhaps say, "Take the brassy and 
play directly over the stake on top of that sandhill 
yonder." If one were successful, he would walk down 
among the sandhills on the other side and find the ball 
in good position for the next shot, or possibly within a 
few feet of the green. The course seemed made for 
good players. 

At the tee there was usually a stretch of about one 
hundred and twenty-five yards of fair green covered 
with rough grass, gorse, etc., which no one would think 
of recognizing as any part of a golf course if seen by 
itself. Then a space of say one hundred yards in length 
and perhaps fifty yards wide of good, smooth turf; then, 
perhaps, another stretch of rough going and an oasis of 
fine turf, extending perhaps to the green. In nearly all 
cases the hazards consist of these natural sand-dunes, 
many with faces dug out for bunkers and unexpected 
traps among them in abandon. If one plays well, every- 
thing is easy, except that he is always liable to find an 



uncomfortable stance or downhill lie. With all these 
troubles my professional partner had six fours in the 
first nine and made an eighty-three. 

I did not have opportunity to visit the Princes Club 
course. It is an aristocratic club, the charge for an 
outsider being ten shillings a day. On all of the remain- 
ing days of the championship I followed the leaders in 
the morning and played at Sandwich in the afternoon, 
a very enjoyable kind of sandwiching. As is well known, 
Taylor was the winner. I was interested to overhear 
him say during the match, "It seems to me, we (he and 
his partner) play the easiest holes the worst." How 
common an experience ! 

At the end of the tournament I returned to London, 
where we remained nearly a month. There are a great 
many fine inland courses within easy reach, and I 
selected the one with the highest reputation, the Mid- 
Surrey, Taylor's home links. I played there two or 
three times a week for three weeks and but once saw 
Taylor. The golf champions are usually away playing 
exhibition games. 

The Mid-Surrey is a public common, or playground, 
about eight miles from Waterloo station, London, in a 
beautiful section near Richmond Park. The links are 
quite as level as at Moorestown or Atlantic City. They 
use a great number of mowers for the fair green, mostly 
four-legged. I think anyone may pasture sheep there; 
they and the fair greens are both in fine condition, and 
I never saw better putting greens, but they are care- 
fully machine-mowed. Mid-Surrey being a level 
course, there are swarms of bunkers and traps. The 
cross bunkers are not very numerous, but the flanking 



traps are continually in evidence, the greens often being 
surrounded by them so as to make successful approach- 
ing a fine art; Taylor himself being doubtless the finest 
living exponent of the mashie approach. 

The men's course surrounds a beautiful one for 
women, which is well patronized. The club house is 
large and fine, combining excellent locker service with 
an admirable restaurant, lounging rooms, etc. Upon 
reaching the club house I asked the steward to find me 
a match. "What is your handicap?" he asked, stating 
at the same time he would get me some one in a few 
minutes. When the match was arranged, the first 
question was, "What is your handicap?" and then my 
opponent if he had a lower handicap would say, "I 
will give you so many strokes on such and such holes," 
and off we would start; he most cheerfully, even when 
ten strokes better than I; for he was as likely to have 
the game of his life, as if he played with one of exactly 
his own caliber. 

I first offered my handicap as eighteen, but was soon 
informed that I was no eighteen handicap man, and was 
not giving a square deal ; so I went to the professional, 
showed him some of my cards and asked what my handi- 
cap ought to be. He hesitated between fourteen and 
fifteen, but finally said fourteen; after that, there was 
no more complaint from my competitors, and as a 
matter of fact, I was more often beaten than I was 
victorious. Well-known handicaps for each player add 
greatly to the pleasure of the game, for then it is not 
necessary always to play with a person of one's own 
class to be happy. 

I had the pleasure also of playing over the Princes 



golf links at Mitcham Junction about eight miles out. 
Percy Bigland, the portrait painter, a Friend, and a 
good golfer, was my companion. This course, too, is a 
public common, originally covered with gorse and broom 
in great profusion. All the holes are difficult; one must 
keep hard at it from first to last and must be playing 
the long game well. His handicap was four, so he gave 
me seven strokes at recognized holes which the caddies 
all knew. At the end of the round we had afternoon 
tea with toast. 

As it does not get dark there until ten in midsummer, 
nine more holes were in order. At the end of a con- 
tinuous hard struggle I was just one down. A week or 
two later a second invitation saw us playing eighteen 
holes, then our afternoon tea and toast and seven holes 
more and all even for the fifty -two. Perhaps the best 
hole was a dog-leg, around the right angle of a high 
wall, over which one might play if he had the nerve; 
but one was more likely to be over one side and short 
of the other; so trying to decide just how near one 
dare drive to the corner was rather nerve taxing. 

Later, I went by auto with my friend, Wilbur Tier- 
ney, now long established in business in London, to a 
new course, which we found in fair condition. There 
was a very fine club house with every convenience, but 
with few members as yet. The owner, a man of capital, 
who had been very successful in similar ventures, 
expected to find this a good investment. 

At Maidenhead, on the Thames, the eighteen-hole 
course is well kept; the hazards all gay with wild 
flowers. Here the river banks are lined with hundreds 
of the popular and elegant Thames punts. They are 



poled along and require much skill. The beginner, 
instead of going ahead, generally turns round and 
round or falls out. 

From there by auto we went to Stoke Pogis, where a 
London golfing club has just secured on lease and future 
purchase, the great manor house of Thomas Penn, a 
descendant of William Penn, with a six-hundred-acre 
estate. The house is of great size, magnificent in every 
particular; like a palace, with its beautiful carvings 
and statuary, great porches and charming outlooks, 
and surrounded by gardens and parks with bowling 
greens and tennis courts, lakes and ancestral trees, and 
acres of rhododendrons of great size and beauty. The 
course has just been built and it was opening day, with 
Taylor and Braid playing an exhibition game upon the 
classic grounds. 

Llandudno, Wales, another golfing center, situated 
on a promontory running into the Irish Sea, is a beau- 
tiful watering place of nine thousand population be- 
tween Little and Great Ormes Heads and the Conway 
river, with its castle near the mouth. There are beau- 
tiful drives in every direction, and two fine eighteen- 
hole golf courses within a couple of miles. 

The North Wales Club there had perhaps the most 
difficult course of all that I tried. The most unkempt 
surroundings, although the greens and narrow fair 
greens were good. Almost every hole was directly over 
billowy sand-dunes or between high ranges of sand- 
hills or alongside steep cliffs, with a wide beach thirty 
feet below, where an erring ball could not be distin- 
guished from the wilderness of pebbles. The greens 
were often blind and long and snaky, the fair greens 



flanked by sandhills; troublesome but most interesting. 

Dr. Granger, an eminent physician of Glasgow, was 
my usual partner, and he paid me a distinct compli- 
ment, by estimating my age to be the same as his own, 
or just forty-nine. (Note — My father was then 68.) 

Skipping beautiful Baslow, Derbyshire, a lovely rural 
center, rolling and rocky, on the beautiful river Der- 
went, near Haddon Hall and Chatsworth House, and 
a nine-hole course, we went on through Edinburgh, to 
St. Andrews, a delightful watering place of ancient 
origin, with a population of about nine thousand. It 
has grand ruins of a great and beautiful cathedral and 
of a castle, both situated near the sea; also a modern 
college and St. Andrews University are here. There 
are many other objects of interest, so that a golfer may 
go there with his family and be sure they will be happy 
while he attends to the ball. 

St. Andrews is the metropolis of golf, with three 
courses — the old, the new and the Jubilee. The old 
course is free to all, being laid out upon a common; 
but by legislation it is soon to be placed in the 
position of a pay course and the club enabled to main- 
tain itself in better fashion. The town near the golf 
links is L shape, the links being between the two great 
arms of the L and the North Sea. Around the L are 
the best hotels, filled all summer long with devotees of 
golf and their friends. 

From our windows we could look right down on the 
eighteenth green and see the players holing out, and at 
a little distance others driving from the first tee. The 
scheme for playing the old course is to hand in your 
names on tickets previous to five o'clock in the after- 



noon, for an opportunity to play the. next day, giving 
the time preferred for starting. The players are then 
drawn by lot; there are often two hundred to three 
hundred names, and they undertake to send off a pair 
of players every five minutes without cessation from 
nine o'clock in the morning until four fifty-six in the 
afternoon, giving each couple two rounds. 

This disposes of one hundred and twenty players. 
Those left may go out previous to nine o'clock and 
start ahead of the regular players and have just as good 
a time. You will see pairs starting anywhere from six- 
thirty on, and in the same way in the afternoon after 
four-fifty-six, players are started in order as they offer 
themselves, every five minutes, and have plenty of 
time to complete a round after that hour. Others 
repair to the new course, or the Jubilee, where they 
can play a game for a shilling entrance; just about as 

The first hole on the old course starts out level, with 
the famous Swilcan Burn for one's second and then, 
when over, the ball begins to bounce, roll and jump 
over the billowy sand-dunes, with the wind to help the 
enemy; this is generally strong and from the same 
quarter, as shown by the careening hawthorn hedges, 
which when trimmed need it on but the one side. 

The holes grow from bad to worse as you proceed, 
perhaps the most noted of all being the Eden, which is 
about one hundred and sixty yards in length, the green 
situated on top of a sandhill fifteen or twenty feet high 
and skillfully trapped on the right and left and beyond ; 
a straight ball is not interfered with except by the face 
of the hill, but the way is narrow and the wind imperti- 



nent. It is a full cleek shot; yet a beautiful one may 
strike the face of the knoll upon which the green is 
situated, scarcely run a dozen yards and be short. 

The proper thing is to play a long hard shot almost 
to the top of the knoll and let it run up over the edge 
of the green, or else place a low hard shot to strike 
below the face of the knoll and run up the slope; or 
one must drop the ball on the green itself and risk run- 
ning over. This is perhaps the best and most noted 
hole in the world. 

A great many of the holes at St. Andrews and at 
many other good links have two, three, four or five 
tees for one green; and some tees are fifty feet square. 
They are differently distanced and situated, used alter- 
nately to prevent them wearing out, and changed 
promptly on account of the varied direction and 
strength of the wind. At St. Andrews they play the 
old course both forward and backward. This makes it 
difficult, and as it was being played backward when I 
was there, I much regret that I could not play it in the 
straight-forward manner, befitting people "brought up 
amid moral surroundings." 

A favorite trap here and elsewhere is what is known 
as the shell bunker. It is very similar in shape to a 
clam shell lying on its back, with the hinge portion 
toward the green. These bunkers are twenty to forty 
feet across and four to six and sometimes eight feet 
deep ; the lip will run out toward one, probably twenty 
or thirty feet, while the ground on the sides beyond 
will slant toward the hole; so that many a safe-looking 
ball is sucked into the trouble, and as most of the lip 
of the shell is in turf and cut close, the ball rolls gaily 



back against the bank and into the deep sand. The 
earth thrown out in construction is used to back up 
the outside toward the green, but it is slanted away so 
deftly into the surface beyond and mowed so closely 
that you may drop right into one without noticing it 
when playing the course backward. 

The new course is a little more level, although 
hemmed in toward the sea by high sand-dunes. The 
Jubilee course I did not have the pleasure of playing. 
The caddies are always an interesting study. Some are 
girls; many of them boys. 

One of the latter volunteered the information that 
"no man had any chance against a woman on the 
St. Andrews links, because the women had so much 
time to practice they were right on the pin with every 
stroke, and would beat a man every time." This I 
took cum grano salis, yet no doubt it had more than one 
grain of truth in it. There is a rugged, rocky shore 
with twenty feet of tide at St. Andrews, making an 
interesting coast; and bathing would be dangerous or 
impossible did they not build storage pools. An acre 
or so is surrounded by a cement wall some three feet 
high, which each high tide regularly overflows, and 
then the water is retained for bathing purposes. 

No golfer, or, indeed, anyone, will feel like leaving 
beautiful St. Andrews in a hurry — its ruins, and its 
narrow streets where one has to wait his turn to get 
through with a carriage, and its quaint and pretty 
little shop windows, its sea views, drives and bathing. 

Then, golfing in England was shattered to atoms 
temporarily by a ten days' motor trip from Birming- 
ham to Coventry, near which is Rugby, with cricket, 



Stratford-on-Avon, Oxford, Kenilworth and Warwick 
castles; then to Banbury, with its cross and famous 
buns, and Bristol, where we lunched delightfully with 
our cousin, Anne Warner Marsh. Next to Bath, Wells, 
Friends' Sidcot School, Dunkery Beacon, beautiful 
Minehead, Dulverton, Lymington, the embarking point 
on the way to the Isle of Wight, which a heavy sea 
prevented our visiting; Lyndhurst, the New Forest, 
Winchester, Salisbury Cathedral, and Stonehenge, 
with its Druid stones and Roman ruins, ending at 
Bibury. This is a charming, quaint old village miles 
from any station, on the small River Coin, which was 
full of fine trout, where one fishes with minute flies and 
hairlike leader at a half crown a day, but is forbidden 
to keep any fish less than ten inches in length. Here 
we spent several blissful days ; in fact, till driven away 
by Joseph Chamberlain, M. P., and his party of ten, 
who long before had engaged the house for this time. 

Mark Twain advises, "When in doubt, tell the truth." 
So, regarding the fish, I content myself by saying I 
caught several that were not thrown back. 

It was almost three weeks before I trod the golf 
links once again, and then at beautiful St. Ives, fifteen 
miles from Land's End — the point of England nearest 
home. But this, they told us, is not the St. Ives of the 
"seven kits, cats, sacks, and wives." 

The new town is way above the busy bay with its 
sandy beach, so that each successive street of houses, 
circling around the shore, looks far over those below 
and one's hotel or pension may be at the very top. 
Beautiful gardens and flowers are abundant; and 
fuchsia hedges which look fifty years old, with stems 



thicker than a man's arm, and much semi-tropical 
growth. The rocky promontory slopes down nearly to 
the level of the ocean, and on the way one finds the 
fishermen's quarter, ancient and quaint. Many of the 
streets are only five or six feet wide, steep, winding, 
branching, with many steps, but everywhere neat and 

The golf links are three miles away, and are used by 
the towns for miles along the bay; it is one of the best 
golf courses in England, they say, but it is hard to be- 
lieve this unless one is infatuated with the difficulties 
of seacoast links, their wild winds and omnipresent 
sand-dunes. The tees and greens are anywhere and 
everywhere, no kind of resemblance between them. 

With such surroundings one must follow the caddie's 
advice closely, yet many a long hunt one has for the 
ball. But, happily, in the latter pursuit, day after day 
we had the excellent help of a good and enthusiastic 
fore-caddie, in the person of the ex-Superintendent of 
Friends' Select School, J. Henry Bartlett. 

The next golfing was at Westward Ho, a small, quaint 
village on the coast, at the mouth of Bristol Channel, 
with a championship course. It is a fashionable water- 
ing place for naval officers and families. The noted 
Pebble Ridge here extends about two miles along a 
curving bay, the stones averaging about the size of 
one's head, water washed, perfectly smooth and piled 
by the waves into a windrow thirty or forty feet wide 
by ten feet high. At high tide the water washes the 
big pebbles back and forth, making a rattling sound as 
they fall upon each other, which can be heard above 
the sound of the surf. At low tide a mile of almost 



level sandy beach with scarcely a pebble in sight 
stretches out to the sea. 

The golf course extends alongside of this ridge and 
back over the meadows. The first hole is over a water 
course at about one hundred yards. This doesn't 
seem to be much of a hazard, but one goes into it about 
every time until he is well baptized and used to it. 
The first three or four holes are quite level and admir- 
ably trapped; then the player begins to come into the 
sand-dunes, where one of the bunkers is about one 
hundred and sixty yards from the tee, and twelve or 
fifteen feet high with a quarter of an acre of hollow face, 
filled with deep sand with some scattering turf. The 
wily player drops his first on the turf, his second goes 
far over the bunker and the third reaches the green for 
a five. The ambitious player by a tremendous effort 
clears the bunker and yet seldom makes the green with 
his second, as the ground is exceedingly rugged and for- 
bidding. Next one comes to some holes with hazards 
of tough, five-feet high, needle-pointed rushes, from a 
clump of which one cannot chop out the ball. The tee 
is quite near them, and their far edge is cut on a diag- 
onal line increasing the width toward the left in the 
direction of the green, a very fine dogleg hole. One 
must play across and then away to the left. The bold 
player drives far to the left, making a carry of one 
hundred and fifty yards or more, and is forty yards 
nearer the hole than the short driver, who must play 
directly across, and take two more for the green. After 
three holes with rushes for hazards are more sandhills 
and high and difficult bunkers. The eighteenth hole 
ends directly the other side of the water hazard. By 



this time one does not care for water hazards or any- 
thing else and makes the shot easily. It is a course 
said to be the most difficult in the kingdom, and it is 
certainly most varied and interesting. At every hole 
is something hard to do, and the course keeps one at 
full stretch to the end. 

Then beautiful Lynton, further up the Channel, four 
or five hundred feet above the sea, among the cliffs, 
with its short nine-hole course three miles away. 
Several other courses were tested, little of note. 

The last three days of the trip I planned to spend 
salmon fishing on the River Dee, but two days of hard 
casting and absolute failure persuaded me to go on to 
Liverpool and try to arrange embarking affairs in the 
morning and spend the last afternoon at Hoy lake. I 
reached the beautiful club house in time for lunch; 
then I secured a good caddy and started to test this 
noted course. I found it very enjoyable; mostly level 
with one good dogleg hole and with many sand-dunes 
and the usual high winds to carry the ball anywhere 
from twenty-five to fifty yards off its course, with the 
slightest provocation. There were several blind holes. 
I had been driving quite well, and at the next tee the 
caddy said: "Now if you make a good drive here, you 
will be right on the green. See that stake up yonder 
on the hill? If you drive by that you are sure of the 
green." I drove within a yard, and we walked on up 
over the top of the hill, which was about twenty-five 
or thirty feet high and one hundred yards away, ex- 
pecting to see the green and ball. Neither was in sight, 
but at a distance of about sixty or eighty yards were 
two or three more ridges; so we walked straight on up 



to the top of the first, expecting every moment to see 
the green, but not until after we reached the top 
where we could look down about twenty feet did I see 
the long snake-like green stretching wide across the line 
of play, but only about twenty-five feet broad, with the 
hole at the bottom and my ball about twelve feet 
beyond on the hillside. A possible two and an easy 
three. This course also was kept short by quadrupedal 

I could not have had a more satisfactory and inter- 
esting course than Hoylake upon which to finish my 

golfing days in England. 

Sam'l L. Allen. 



THE following beautiful tribute was written by 
J. Stogdell Stokes at the request of the editor of 
the Philadelphia Evening Telegraph, most of it 
appearing Fourth Month Ninth, 1918, in a column 
article by "Girard." 


About fifty years ago a young Philadelphia Quaker, who had 
moved to a farm near Moorestown, N. J., conceived the idea of 
attaching two tin wash basins together with a metal band, drilling 
this band with holes, and mounting this device so it could be rolled 
over the ground by handles attached. In this simple construction 
he had the means for fertilizing the ground and planting it with 
seeds. Neighboring farmers recognized its value and wished him 
to make similar implements for them. Today the large manu- 
facturing concern of S. L. Allen & Co., whose works are at 5th 
Street and Glenwood Avenue, Philadelphia, is the outcome of this 
crude beginning. 

Samuel L. Allen, whose death has recently been noted in the 
papers, led a life of more than passing interest. He began his 
manufacturing in a simple way on his farm, but soon moved to a 
modest basement in Carter's Alley, Philadelphia, where on 
borrowed capital he equipped a small shop. Shortly after starting 
he was completely burned out. He borrowed more money and 
started again. Undaunted by lack of capital and many dis- 
couragements he remained true to his visions and lived to see 
the world-wide reputation of his products. 

The wash basin fertilizer suggested in appearance the planet 
Saturn with its rings, from whence arose the name "Planet 



Junior" known the world over where garden implements are 
used. In France, Cuba and many foreign lands certain farm 
implements such as drills, cultivators, etc., are now commonly 
known as "planets." 

Makers of agricultural implements have of necessity a seasonal 
business. To balance manufacturing conditions the idea occurred 
to him that he should also make something that was used in the 
winter time. This turned his attention to sleds and today every 
boy in the land knows the "Flexible Flyer." He used to say that 
it took the public usually nine years to discover a good thing. 
It was twelve to fourteen years before the "Flexible Flyer" 
gained its wide public popularity. 

In his large factory will be found the most advanced methods of 
manufacture. The welfare of his employees was always upper- 
most in his mind and the loyalty of his men to him through the 
years was the outcome of his sympathy and thoughtfulness for 
them. He was among the first to introduce a liberal policy of life 
insurance among his workers. 

Although a man that worked ceaselessly and tirelessly in 
establishing his business, his life had other interests. No one 
approached him in a cause that aroused his sympathy, who did 
not receive generous contributions. Many institutions around 
Philadelphia are gainers from his liberal donations. He was a 
trustee of Haverford College and Friends Hospital for the insane, 
whose interests he worked for with the same, zest that he put 
into everything he touched. 

One side of his versatile character to be noted was his great 
interest in sports. As a boy he flooded the bricks in the back yard 
of his father's home in Philadelphia and on this manufactured 
pond developed into an accomplished figure skater. Later he 
became a wonderful wing shot behind his dogs and then in turn 
took up bicycling. His enthusiasm for bicycling resulted in his 
arousing interest among property owners to construct bicycle 
paths alongside the roads leading for miles in all directions around 
his home. It is characteristic of him that whatever he went into, he 
did it with such intensity and keenness that not only did he master 
the sport but became an authority on everything connected with it. 



After shooting he took up fly fishing and not only became an 
expert fisherman, but manufactured his own fly rods better than 
those he could buy and tied his own trout flies. Not to allow this 
to interfere unduly with business he would go the night before to 
the Perkiomen or other fishing streams, arise at daybreak the 
next morning and fish until breakfast. After this he would return 
to his office and do his day's work. 

He was 60 years old before he took up golf. His inventive mind 
at once turned to improving golf links. Not only did he study the 
game so intensely that he became one of the best golfers of his 
years in the United States with a large string of cups testifying 
to his winnings, but he was so interested in golf finks that he spent 
much time in England and Scotland studying the best construction 
of courses. There was not a book of value written on golf he did 
not read. 

For many years he was a member of the Committee of Westtown 
Boarding School, and was active in organizing the Old Scholars' 
Association, of which he was the first president. On all the Com- 
mittees he served so faithfully, his good judgment and knowledge 
of practical matters were a great help. He was also an interested 
member of the Representative Committee of Philadelphia Yearly 
Meeting of Friends. His unblemished Christian character ripened 
with the years, and his many activities were in no way allowed 
to interfere with his beautiful home life. A devoted husband and 
father, a good citizen; 

"His life was gentle, and the elements 
So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up 
And say to all the world, 'This was a man!'" 

The saving of labor by small garden tools and cultivators as 
used by market gardeners and farmers was his great contribution 
to the world. He was the creator and leader of the industry that 
arose from this idea. Not only "the man with the hoe," but also 
the woman with the hoe, he largely banished from the fields of 
Europe; as he did in all climes where agriculture has been in the 
least influenced by modern methods. If one followed his products 
to the fields of their usefulness he would see strange and interesting 



sights. Horses here are drawing his larger implements; in South 
America, oxen; in Egypt, camels; in some parts of the south the 
old family cow — all telling the same story — the increase of the 
fertility and production of the soil and the lightening of the 
burdens of toil as generations of men follow the beneficent pur- 
suits of agriculture. 

The scene changes: Down snowy slopes pass the merry, rosy 
faces of countless boys and girls tightly clasping their "Flexible 
Flyers," happy in the healthiest and cleanest of sports— a fine 
contribution to leave the world. Who would envy the success of 
such a life ! 

Many men become successful in business, some are noted for 
their charities, some as wing shots, some as skaters, some as 
fishermen, some as golfers, some as valued trustees on boards of 
institutions; but it is rare to find a man with such keenness and 
ability that he wins a big place in all these fields. Such a man 
was Samuel L. Allen. A man absolutely indifferent to public 
applause, approachable to all, modest in his bearing, kindly and 
liberal to all who sought his help and advice. He has given to 
Philadelphia a fine business establishment, and to the world many 
ideas that will long survive him. 

Whether in work or play he was restless with loitering and 
impatient of mediocre results. The note of his life may be found 
in the following quotation from Goethe, a copy of which he carried 
in his pocket-book for over thirty years, and which he had printed 
on cards and often handed to young men who came to him with 
their problems : 

"Lose this day loitering, 'twill be the same story 
To-morrow, and the next more dilatory; 
The indecision brings its own delays, 
And days are lost lamenting o'er lost days. 
Are yon in earnest? Seize this very minute; 
What you can do or think you can begin it; 
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it! 
Only engage, and then the mind grows heated; 
Begin it, and the work will be completed " 



Allen, Anna W. Roberts, 71 

— Charles J., 149; estimate of his 
father, 150-152 

— Elizabeth, acrostic, 52 

— George Breidenhart, recollections, 
15 et seq., 28, 29, 90, 91 

— Henry Gibbons, 71 

— John C, 13; account of hail storm, 
61, 62, 96 

— John C, Jr., 97 

— Rebecca Leeds, 53-55; tribute to, 

— Sarah Hooton, parentage and mar- 
riage, 39 et seq., 90 

— William C., tribute, 55, 56 
Allinson, James, 50, 51 
Automobiles, 254, 255 

Barrett, Prof. Don C., tribute, 235 
Bartlett, J. Henry, in The Friend, 54, 55, 

159-161 ; Social Order Committee, 237, 

238; teaching gift, 242 
Beet culture, 289, 293 
Belleair, Florida, 201; letter to, 251 
Benson, Henrietta, 250 
Bicycle riding, 106 
Biddle, James G., tribute, 209, 210 
Bigland, Percy, 315 

Blind holes in English golf courses, 310 
Bobbs, Lord, 261 et seq. 
Bookplates, 267 et seq. 
Braid, golfer, 310 
Breidenhart, Sarah and Christopher, 13 

— Amelia, 226 

Brown, Thomas K., in 1865, 27, 28; 

sledding, 111-113; fishing, 186, 187; 

estimate, 229; W. O. S. A., 236 
Burt, Edward W., recollections, 112, 

115, 116, 133-139, 146, 147, 165 
Clair, Henry M., recollections, 129-131 

Collins, M. L., recollections, 169 

Comfort, Howard M., manner of busi- 
ness, 234 

Cornerstone of Breidenhart, 222, 223 

Cope, Edward C, 21 

Deal Golf Course, 309, 310 

De Cou, Daniel, 97, 159, 162 

Downs, Thomas and Annie, 48, 49, 95, 

Dry farming, 295 

Edgerton, Essie L., verses, 224-226 

Elfreth, Henry W., tribute, 55; mar- 
riage, 252 

Elkinton, William T., minute, 233 

Endurance, physical, 201, 202 

Fair, Moorestown, 105 

Farming, argument for, 75 

Felton, Foster I., tribute, 167-169 

Fires at Ivystone, 65 

Flexible Flyer, 111-117 

Funeral at Moorestown, 277 

Golfer, American, notice of Samuel L. 
Allen, 213 

Grieves, Walter, interview, 166 

Gypsy, 79 et seq. 

Haverford College, minute, 235; "man- 
ager's hat and coat," 243 

Hop culture, 289 

Houston, A. Frank, 273 

Hunt, James, Sr., recollections, 30, 31 

Hunting, 73, 74 

Illness, Samuel L. Allen's, at Poeono.. 
253; at Miami, 274 

Indians, collections and sales, 264 et seq. 

Jacoby, A. L., recollections, 162-164; 
description of Flexible Flyer, 114, 115 

Janney, Susan W., in England, 252; in 
California, 252; estimate, 259, 260 



Leeds, Benjamin, farm at Westfield, 27 

— Barclay R. and Mary M., 124, 126, 
177; broken wrist, 306 

— Daniel, Surveyor General, 39 

— Henry W., estimate, 232 

— Point, sailing incident, 23, 24 
Lippincott, J. Haines, letter, 203 
Longenecker, Emma, 269 et seq. 

Marsh, Anne Warner, 321 
Mid-Surrey, golf course, 313 
Miller, Charles, landscape work, 218 
Mitchell, Donald G., landscape gar- 
dener, 69 
Moore, Eli, Michigan incidents, 165 
Moore, Walter, recollections, 14, 15 

Nicholson, J. Whitall, 217 
North Wales Golf Club, 316 

Overman, William F., impressions, 210- 

Ozone Club, 204-209 

Parry, Charles, recollections, 31, 32, 91 
Perry, David, interview, 166 
"Planet Jr.," origin, 90, 326 
Princes Golf Links, 314 
Puns and punning, 66 

Restaurant, object of, 156 

Richie, David R., reminiscences, 152-154 

— Edward B., 96 

— Edward L., 152 
Road building, 107, 108 

Roberts, David, recollections, 72, 73, 
207, 208; tribute, 259 

— Elisha, death, 251; letter to, 300, 

— Elizabeth L., recollections, 14, 15 

— William Hooton, 96; recollections, 
98, 99; 140-145 

Saint Andrews Golf Course, 317-320 

Saint Gaudens, Madam, 273 
St. Ives Golf Course, 321, 322 
Sandwich Golf Course, 311 
Scattergood, J. Henry, fishing trip, 187 
— Thomas, 18, 42, 186; funeral, 284 
Schaffer, Dr. and Mrs. Charles, 298 
School, Friends' Select, addresses, 20 et 

seq.; 244 
Sequoias in California, 293, 294 
Shaw, Harry L., impressions, 157-159 
Shaw, W. Hudson, 228 
Shea, Harry and family, 71 
Smiley Brothers, 287 
Stoke Pogis Golf Course, 316 
Sugar cane culture, 281, 282 
Surprises, 58 et seq.; 118, 119 
Sweigert, Alexander B., tribute, 170, 171 

Taylor, golfer, 310, 313, 314 
Teachers' Association, addresses, 245-249 
Telescopes, essay on, 22, 23 
Thomas, Dr. Joseph, 24 
Tierney, J. Wilbur, 315 
Trans-continental auto trip, 270 et seq. 
Travis, W. J., letter, 213 

Vardon, golfer, 310 

Wainwright, Charles M., recollections, 

131, 132 
Warren, William C, recollections, 147- 

149, 155, 156 
Wedding, father and mother's accounts, 

43-45; golden, 256-259 
Westtown School, 15; letters to, 101 et 

seq.; committee appointment, 235 
Westward Ho Golf Course, 322, 323 
Williams, Charles, tribute, 99, 100 
Wood, Alexander C, and Mary Emma 

S., 89, 124; tributes, 176, 177, 233 

— Edward S., recollections, 106 

— Horatio, 15; 18 et seq„ 
W. 0. S. A., 236